Some Kind of Fix
by brokenroots
Summary: He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.
1. Some Kind of Fix

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 1,620  
><strong>R<strong>**ating**: PG-13  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I decided to expand this a little, so while the first part is familiar, the rest is new...

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Fix<strong>

He could feel it. That slight twitch in his fingers. That itch. He lit up a cigarette, hoping it would take the edge off. It wasn't much of a substitute, and he knew it. He was jonesing for a fix, and he'd throw away everything if he could. He knew that about himself by now.

Shaking his head, he settled down with a beer instead, not entirely ready to spend the rest of the night fighting against his nature. He had just closed his eyes, about to take a sip, when he heard the knock.

He took the sip anyway before dragging himself out of the chair and crossing the room to answer it.

He opened the door, managing to make it so there was no surprise on his face, no real reaction to the fact that she was standing in front of him. He shrugged a little, letting her inside. "Knew you didn't want to get on that plane, Linden."

"Shut up, Holder," she said, grabbing a hold of his sweatshirt and pulling him close enough to kiss him.

* * *

><p>Asking what this was, that was just plain stupid. Ask a question like that, and she was bound to run. It was in her nature. He knew enough about her to know that. He laid there, running his fingers through her hair while she slept, untangling some of the curls. She never slept, so it didn't really surprise him that she was out cold while he was awake, his mind unable to quit.<p>

Thinking wasn't something people would accuse him of often, and he couldn't blame them for that. He wasn't sentimental, either, except maybe when it came to the drugs. That was different. He missed the way they made him feel, a feeling that was all physical. Linden was something else. She was a person, and she needed him. He'd never been needed before. He'd seen that through. He never saw stuff through.

He frowned and looked down at her. What was it about this woman, anyway? She was cranky, bitchy and bossy as hell. She hadn't really accepted him, not until he'd helped her with her kid, and that wasn't the same as her really making him a part of the investigation. The hell was that, anyway? She'd trust him with helping her find her kid, but not with a murder investigation? Not that she'd wanted his help there, either. It was impossible to do anything for this woman without a fight.

Then she'd shown up on his doorstep, kissed him, and the rest just sort of... happened.

He had no complaints. No regrets.

Linden was probably a different story. Chances were, she'd try and pretend that this hadn't happened at all. He figured she'd done it to sabotage things with Mr. Sonoma for good. Holder was just convenient. Hell, he'd been easy.

_Face it, Holder, you're a slut._ No use fooling himself into thinking that this was anything more than it was. One night, that was it. If she hadn't fallen asleep, she'd already be gone. That was the way it worked. Sooner he accepted that, the better.

Linden turned over, muttering something in her sleep, and he started combing through her hair again. She seemed to settle a bit, and he let out a breath of relief. Let her sleep as long as she could. She didn't do it enough.

A small part of him was aware that he was trying to keep her here as long as he could, but he couldn't bring himself to care. What did it matter if she stayed? He was not an idiot, not completely, anyway. She was as good as gone, but right now, he had her. That was good enough by him. It worked for the night. In the morning, things would be back to the way they were. She might even try and take that plane again. Who knew? Not him, that was for sure.

He closed his eyes, starting drift off himself. He was almost out when Linden screamed. He sat up and looked down at her. Despite the scream, she hadn't woken. He was torn, uncertain if he should wake her up or not. "Linden?"

She made some kind of noise, sounding more like a frightened animal than a woman, and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to hold her still. She was shaking like someone in need of a fix, and he would have given it to her if he had something for her. She didn't need drugs, though. She needed something that he didn't think he could give her. Maybe Mr. Sonoma could. She should be with him, then, not here in Holder's bed. What the hell did he have to offer her anyway? He was a messed up addict who couldn't be trusted with his own paycheck. He'd stolen from his own nephew.

Linden's trembling stopped, but now she was wrapped around him so tightly he couldn't hardly breathe. Not like there was much of him to hold onto these days. He'd been thin before, and he'd lost a lot of weight when he started using, and he hadn't gained much of it back.

"Damn, girl, when you grab a hold of something, you don't let go, do you?" he asked, looking down at her with amusement. "I knew I was irresistible."

It wasn't as fun to tease her when she wasn't awake to give him that look, but it made him more comfortable with the whole thing. He smiled a little as he closed his eyes again.

* * *

><p>Linden's eyes opened slowly, and she looked around in confusion. She could hear snoring, and she quickly identified that as coming from Holder. As soon as she did, she winced. What the hell had she been thinking? <em>Had <em>she been thinking?

Not really. She'd missed the flight to Sonoma again, and she was pissed. Her son had called up one of his friends and made arrangements to stay overnight right away, and she'd let him because she didn't even want to hear what he'd have to say about missing the flight.

Winding up on Holder's doorstep had never been part of the plan. Kissing him had _definitely _not been a part of it. It was just that smirk he had when he opened the door and said she didn't want to go to Sonoma—she'd had to wipe the damn thing off his face.

He'd been pretty damn surprised when she did it, too. That alone had been worth it, but then he'd surprised her by kissing her back and the rest of it was almost a blur. Not a _bad _blur. That was probably the worst part of it. She was supposed to be getting married. He loved her. He'd asked. He was pissed at her right now, but he was not man she was in bed with.

She took a deep breath and ran her hand through her hair. Leaving Holder snoring on the bed, she got up and started looking for her clothes. She was pulling her sweater over her head when he spoke. "I'll make you coffee if you want."

"Thought you were sleeping."

"Not a very heavy sleeper when I'm not high," he answered, swinging out of the bed completely naked and apparently without any shame. He walked out of the room, headed for his kitchen. She stared after him for a moment, wondering how she was going to handle this.

Best to tell him it wasn't going any further than last night and get it over with. She finished getting dressed and met him in the kitchen. He had a cup waiting for her, rich and black and perfect. She looked at him over the cup. "Holder—"

"No worries, Linden. I know you got a plane to catch."

She watched him for a moment. He sounded like he meant it, and that should be fine. Better than fine. Let them both walk away from this without a lot of fuss or hurt feelings or false expectations. It was what it was, nothing more. She forced herself to nod. "Good."

"How's the coffee?"

"Good."

He smiled a little. "Guess I should ask how it was then, since everything is getting a 'good' this morning."

She rolled her eyes as she shook her head. "You should probably think about putting on some clothes."

He looked down and then back up at her with a grin. "Why hide perfection?"

She found herself smiling. She couldn't help it. He was so ridiculous sometimes that the only thing to do was smile. She took another sip of her coffee, trying to ignore the bad idea that had just come to her. _Walk away clean, Linden. _

"When's the flight?"

He was thinking the same thing, wasn't he? Damn it. She could lie. She could tell him that she had to leave to make it this time, but she didn't want to. That surprised her. She shouldn't want this that badly. Last night wasn't about anything more than being pissed off and taking advantage of Holder because he happened to be available.

Even as annoying and messed up as he was, he deserved better. "I haven't rescheduled it yet."

He nodded. "You have time to enjoy your coffee, then."

Oh, to hell with it, she thought, setting the coffee aside and grabbing a hold of him again. His arms went around her waist, pushing her up against the counter. "You didn't get dressed on purpose."

"I never wear clothes if I can help it, Linden. Don't get any ideas that you're special."

"Shut up, Holder."


	2. Some Kind of Family

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,938  
><strong>R<strong>**ating**: PG-13  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I am both surprised and somewhat scared at the response to the original snippet and this continuation. I expect it will most likely die down after there's more Killing fic available, but I guess I should have put in something in the first chapter to to say that I don't write sex scenes. There will be no detailed sex scenes in this story. It's not something I can write. I will imply plenty, but I don't write it.

I changed a few things for the sake of this story. Consider it AU, if you like. Mainly... Linden doesn't know that Holder used a doctored picture, and Jack's father stuck around. Okay, that's about it from me.

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Family<strong>

"That has to be Jack."

Holder lifted his head, looking over at the offending noise. Linden's cell phone had been going off nonstop for the past fifteen minutes, and it was one hell of a mood killer. He'd tried to ignore it, she'd tried to ignore it, but that wasn't working. It wouldn't quit.

"Might be Sonoma."

The instant the words were out of his mouth, he regretted saying them. Bringing up Sonoma was sure to make her run off. He'd almost gotten a second round out of her, and he couldn't say what that made this thing now. The sex had been good, good enough for a repeat, and this might have been his last chance to do it again, but that didn't make this something else, something other than a hook up.

He didn't even _want _more than a hookup, did he? No way in hell he was cut out for that family crap. She already had a kid, and even though Holder liked Jack well enough, he knew that he was no father. Some role model he made. Look at what he'd done to his nephew.

"He wouldn't call," Linden said in a clipped tone. She moved away from him, going over to pick up the phone. She looked at it, nodding absently, and finally called her son back.

Holder sat back, running a hand through his hair. His fingers were starting to twitch again. Damn, he wanted a fix. He hadn't thought about it since she walked in his door—she was one hell of a distraction—but now he did. He shook his head and reached for his cigarettes, lighting one up.

"Jack, where are you?" she demanded. Damn, she sounded pissed. Like back to her usual PMS pissed. "What do you mean you went with your dad?"

Holder didn't like the sound of this. He went back into the bedroom, grabbing his clothes. He couldn't remember when he'd last done laundry, and everything in the room was probably about as clean as the stuff on the floor. He pulled on his t-shirt and pants, put a sweatshirt over the tee, and bent down to find his shoes. He picked up a sock and winced, throwing it back. That was rank. Damn, he didn't think he had any clean socks.

He was still under the bed when she spoke, and he hit his head at the sound of her voice. Ouch. He hadn't realized that frame was metal. Shit. "My son is with his father."

Holder crawled out from under the bed, rubbing the back of his head. It still hurt like a bitch, and probably would for a while. He forced himself to ignore it. Pain helped take his mind off a fix anyway. He looked at Linden. "You going to kill him?"

She smiled a little, shaking her head. Nice to see his pain amused her. "I need a ride."

Holder found himself thinking he'd take her anywhere she wanted and frowned. He gestured to his outfit. "Now I look like a chauffeur?"

She studied him for a minute, exaggerating the whole thing, like it was some kind of mystery. Then she shook her head. "Maybe the driver of a gypsy cab."

"Cute."

She shrugged, turning to leave again. "I'll call a cab."

"Nah, I'll take you. Geez, Linden, doesn't anyone ever give you crap? No one dares give you a hard time, that it? Learn to take a joke," he told her, squeezing her shoulders for a moment as he passed by her, moving back into his kitchen where he thought he'd left his keys. She followed him out, watching as he looked for them. They should have been on the counter, but he couldn't seem to find them for the life of him. He started looking in all of the cupboards and under the sink. He'd been known to put them in the weirdest places when he was high. Not that he had been. He was clean. That didn't mean he knew where they were, though. "You could help, you know."

He heard something jingle, and when he looked back at her, she was holding up the keys. "Nice. Did you have them the entire time?"

She didn't answer, moving toward the door. Great. She probably thought she was driving, too, and they weren't on her case anymore. She didn't get to push him around. He wasn't learning anything from her, if that was what he'd been doing the last time. He wasn't really sure what had gone on between the two of them during the Larsen case. They weren't exactly friends, maybe partners, though it wasn't all that _equal, _either. She didn't explain jack to him, and this was the crap he was supposed to be learning, right? How to be a homicide cop? Wasn't that what Oakes wanted? Hell if he knew.

"You going to stay there all day, Holder?"

"Just trying to decide if we need to pick up a body bag on the way, that's all."

She laughed.

* * *

><p>"What are we doing?"<p>

She looked away from the road for a moment, studying him. It was a loaded question. Sure, it could be simple. It could be as simple as him asking her what she plans to do about her son, if he was going to be involved in it. That was almost simple. But if he was asking about what is going on between them, then that was not a simple question. She couldn't answer that at all. None of this was supposed to happen. She should be in Sonoma right now. She should be with Rick. Rick had asked her to marry him. She had said yes. She had quit her job. She had been prepared to leave and get married and never look back on Seattle. Then the Larsen case had come up, and she hadn't made it on the plane. She kept missing every single flight. Rick had interpreted that one way, so had Holder. Hell, everyone did. Even Jack's deadbeat father had asked if she'd let Rick in, _really _let him in.

She couldn't say that she had. Maybe this thing—the marriage—would never work. Maybe it was doomed before it started. Maybe she should take the missed flights as a sign, too. Was she just being stubborn, trying to prove them all wrong by going after Rick? What happened if she married him and they tried to settle into the life he wanted?

She had no idea.

She turned her eyes back to the road. Holder was... What was he, exactly? When she first met him, she'd figured him for a nuisance. He was someone she had to take along with her, someone she didn't really trust with the Larsen case, and she'd even thought he'd leaked information. She certainly hadn't thought he was a partner—she didn't work with partners, and he didn't know what he was doing. Somewhere in the middle of the investigation, though, something had shifted. Probably about the time when she was freaking out about her son, she'd realized that she no longer saw Holder as some guy she was stuck with who couldn't hold his own weight. He had surprised her.

She could have stayed partners with him, but she tried to leave. She could even have been friends with him, but she'd gone for Rick. She'd turned her back on everything that Holder offered her. Then she'd really screwed things up by sleeping with him last night. She'd almost done it again, would have if Jack's calls hadn't interrupted them.

She didn't know what the hell this was.

"Yo, Linden, you go deaf or something?"

She shook her head, looking over at him again. "Not deaf. Just thinking."

He shrugged. "Told you we should grab the body bag."

"You planning on helping me hide the body?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Depends. Which body we talking about? 'Cause I don't know if I want to do all that heavy lifting, you know?"

She laughed a little. She didn't understand why he could make her laugh like that, why he made her smile. He wasn't her, type, that was for sure. _Knew you didn't want to get on that plane. _Damn him. He knew her, didn't he? Because he _was_ right. She hadn't wanted to get on that plane. She didn't want to reschedule the flight. She didn't want to prove that point. Let them be right. All of them. She didn't care anymore.

She sighed, gripping the wheel again. She had a life she wanted, didn't she? And her spot was gone. Holder had her job. She was done here. Rick had a place for her and for Jack in Sonoma. That life was going to be good. It wasn't about a point. She loved him.

Didn't she?

Damn it, she had thought she knew exactly what felt for him before, and she had thought she knew what she wanted. She hated what this had done to the Larsen family, didn't want the girl's killer unpunished, but why did she have to land _this _case? Why had it forced her to rethink everything? Why had she missed the flights?

She was confused, and she didn't like confusion.

"Green means go, right?"

She looked up at the light and cursed quietly as she started driving again.

"I could drive. I do have a license," Holder reminded her. She shot him a dirty look. He held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. Fine. Just pay attention to the road. I kind of like this car."

"I don't know why."

"Dude, why you gotta hate on my ride? It works. You don't even have one."

"I used a department car, but after I turned in my notice, I gave it up. It was reassigned."

"Huh," he began, and she looked over at him. "Was there anything in your life that wasn't disposable? Anything you couldn't leave behind?"

"Jack."

Holder gave her a look, and she knew he wasn't satisfied with that answer. She didn't like what he'd pointed out, either. He was right. She didn't have any roots, anything to tie her here. Reggie was the closest, but Reggie wasn't family, and after the last fight they'd had, maybe she wasn't even a friend. It was hard to know. Linden should talk to her. Was Reggie back from that trip yet?

Linden wasn't sure she would have bothered to try if she had gotten on that plane.

* * *

><p>Holder had to wonder if Linden's ex was some kind of rich guy as they got to his hotel. The place where Linden had stayed was a dump, not much better than Holder's apartment, but this place was one of those five star joints, right? Exactly how had Linden shacked up with this guy? Was he married when she knew him or what?<p>

That wasn't fair. Maybe he got rich after he left her. That happened, too. Or maybe the idiot was just showing off for his kid, didn't really have that much money. It didn't matter. None of it did. Holder told himself that he didn't care. This wasn't his kid, Linden wasn't his girl, and none of this meant a damn thing.

"You want me to wait with the car?" Holder asked, hand on the door handle. She looked over at him, and for a second, he wondered if she'd forgotten that he was there. "'Cause I can wait with the car."

"You're not a chauffeur."

He wasn't really sure what she meant by that, but he shrugged, getting out to follow her inside. He thought that Jack's father had left when Linden told him off, but he was wrong. The guy must have been hoping for more than what she'd given him—and he hadn't expected her to get on that plane, either.

Linden went into the hotel, walking like she knew where she was going. Maybe she did. Wasn't like she would have told Holder if she didn't. That wasn't the way it worked. She didn't tell him anything. Still, if she thought he hadn't noticed her reaction to his question earlier, she was kidding herself. He wasn't that big of an idiot. He'd asked a simple question, and she had pretty much freaked. It was the quiet sort of freaking out, the sort that happened all in the head. She was worried that he wanted more, wasn't she?

Problem was, he wasn't so sure he _didn't. _He'd tell her that he didn't—tried it once already—but he'd probably be lying. He shook his head a little. This was a mess. He wanted a cigarette, and he almost took one out, but he had seen a bunch of no smoking signs around. He doubted Linden's ex had a smoking room. He had to make it good for the kid, right? So the kid would think that he was a good guy, nice guy, perfect guy who didn't smoke.

Probably didn't eat Funyuns, either. Holder should have picked up a bag on the way. Might have softened the blow for the kid. Linden was going to tear him a new one this time. He wasn't supposed to be here, and she'd almost killed him after the first time. At least this time the kid had called.

Linden knocked on the door. The ex opened it, letting them in. He gave Holder a long look, and he folded his arms over his chest. Jack looked at the two of them, then at his mom, suspicious. "Are you working again? I thought you said the case was over."

"I'm just a sucker with a car," Holder muttered, and Jack seemed relieved. "Think I'll start running a gypsy cab on the side, make a buck or two."

Linden looked at him and the ex. "I need a minute with Jack."

"I'm going to find a snack machine," Holder told her, wanting to get out of the room. It was so damn tense in there it felt like a closet, not a suite. He didn't need that. He needed a cigarette, bad. He walked out of the room and looked for the nearest exit.

"She's going to chew you up and spit you out, you know that, right?"

Holder looked back at the ex. Maybe he figured that if Linden was going to yell at her son, better let her do it in the room. "I gave her a lift. It's my ride that'll never be the same."

"She pushes everyone away. It's what she does."

"Do I look like her damn fiance? No. That ain't me. I'm just the guy that gets her from point A to point B. End of story."

The ex didn't seem all that convinced. Holder shook his head. He needed a cigarette, had to fight the need for a damn fix. This thing was getting out of control. He was going to have to make time to hit a meeting or two. Anything, though it would be a hell of a lot easier to give in. Good thing he didn't have any money.

"She's just using you."

"You think I don't know that? Hell, I should charge her for the gas."

"That's not what I meant. You're the reason she'll push the fiance away. Work didn't work, or she would never have gotten engaged in the first place. Isn't she supposed to be somewhere else now? So why is she here? Why is she with you?"

"I'm irresistible," Holder said with a grin, and the ex shot him a look. "The hell do you want from me? I don't have to explain myself to you. I don't need your warnings. I might have met her two weeks ago, but I bet I know her better than you do."

"She had my kid."

"Like that was planned," Holder scoffed, and the other man gave him another dark look. This could get ugly. "Look, you don't know crap about me or her, and you can lay off. You don't want me near your kid, that's one thing. Say that and get it over with. Don't bother with the rest of this bullshit. I don't care what you think of our chances. You see me with a flower going, 'she loves me, she loves me not?' Hell, no. It's not like that, no matter what you think."

He moved away, looking for the vending machine. Was this place too rich to have one? Nah, they had to have junk food even for the people with money. Unless it was all in the mini bar. Damn, he hadn't thought of that. Linden's ex had distracted him.

He did find a vending machine at the end of the hall, and he had to grin when he saw that familiar yellow bag. He put a rumpled dollar into the machine, then another, getting two packages, since they were small and overpriced.

Heading back to the room, Holder passed the ex again, but the man didn't try to speak to him this time. The door to the room opened, and Linden came out with her son. Holder tossed the kid one of the bags.

Jack smiled. "My favorite. Thanks."

The ex frowned. Had he not known that? Linden shook her head. "Holder."

"What? Condemned man deserves a last meal, right?"


	3. Some Kind of Deal

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 3,655  
><strong>R<strong>**ating**: PG-13  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Repeating what I should have put in the first chapter to to say that I don't write sex scenes. There will be no detailed sex scenes in this story. It's not something I can write. I will imply plenty, but I don't write it.

Also, remember... Linden doesn't know that Holder used a doctored picture, and Jack's father stuck around.

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Deal<strong>

Linden couldn't believe the thoughts running through her head. She'd been prepared to yell and scream and tell her son exactly what she thought, but she hadn't done it. She had hugged him instead, feeling foolishly grateful that this time he'd called. She wanted to shake some sense into him, so as soon as she was done hugging him, she stepped back and looked down at him.

"Why did you do this? Again?"

"I just wanted to see him. When we missed the plane, I called him to see if he was still in town."

"So you lied when you said you were going to your friend's house?"

Jack nodded unhappily. "Yes. I did. I'm sorry, Mom. I just... needed to see him. He's my dad."

"He hasn't been a part of your life, remember? He left us."

"He's trying! Let him try!"

She couldn't help but think that if Jack was busy with his father, he'd never notice that she was gone with Holder. She winced. She was _not _doing that again. She couldn't afford to confuse that issue any more than she already had. "You know that we are going to Sonoma."

"No, we're not. Come on, Mom. Just admit that you don't really want to go. Let us stay. I want to stay. Everything I have is here, and Dad's here. Can we at least stay until he has to go back? Please? It's not like the wedding is that close, anyway. Or you could just let me stay with Dad, couldn't you? Just for a little while? Please?"

She sighed. The last thing she wanted to think about right now was staying. Either one of them staying. She couldn't leave her son behind. He was the one thing that she couldn't leave, as she'd told Holder in the car. She could try calling Rick, see if he would be upset if she stayed a few more days, but she already knew the answer to that, didn't she?

"I checked the airline," Jack told her, and she looked at him sharply. "We already missed the two flights to Sonoma today. We'd have to pay to take a different airline, so why can't we stay?"

"They wouldn't have exchanged the ticket. We'd be paying for a new one anyway."

"Then why waste the money?"

"Jack—"

"You don't have to work. You could go if you wanted. Just let me stay."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," Jack insisted, and she gave him a look. He'd better stop now. She didn't really think that his father deserved any time with him, and she didn't want to stay—damn it, every time she thought about staying, she swore she that she could feel Holder's hands on her body. She wouldn't be surprised if she was red right now. She felt warm. If she stayed, she'd fall right back into his bed, and she'd never been _that _easy. Not with Jack's father, not with Rick.

Maybe it was that Holder didn't want anything from her. Maybe that was liberating. Then again, she'd never really gone for casual sex, either. What the hell _was _this? She felt like the Larsen case had thrown her whole world off-balance.

"Let's go find your father," she said, needing to change this situation somehow. He had better say that he couldn't stay, that Jack was going to have to go with her. To Sonoma. They were moving on. That was what was happening. They were going to pick up where they were before the Larsen case came along. Things hadn't changed that much.

Only she had the unpleasant feeling that something _had _changed, something big, and there was no going back from it. She didn't like that feeling at all.

They opened the door, and she didn't even notice her ex as Holder walked up to them. He tossed a bag of Funyuns at Jack, who caught it and grinned. "My favorite. Thanks."

Jack's father frowned. She wasn't all that happy with Holder's choice, either. She shook her head. "Holder."

He shrugged. "What? Doesn't a condemned man deserve a last meal?"

She almost laughed, couldn't stop the smile. Jack grimaced, but then he had his bag open and was distracted by eating from it. Holder moved over to her. "So, do we need the bag or not?"

"Not," she answered, tempted to pull him close and kiss him in spite of the fact that he'd probably been eating those damn fake onions, too. "How long are you planning on being in town?"

Her ex looked at her. "Thought you were here to drag him off."

"I thought about killing him. Holder offered to help me hide the body. How long are you going to be here?"

"A few more days. Why?"

"I haven't gotten a new flight yet. Jack wants to spend time with you. I'm considering it."

"That's a surprise."

Holder smiled. "Guess you're not PMSing today, eh, Linden?"

"Shut up, Holder."

"You just say that 'cause you love me," he said, and she glared at him. He laughed and shared a look with Jack, high-fiving him. It wasn't right that he got along so well with her son. Well, no, it was good that Jack could relate to someone, but it shouldn't be Holder. It should be Rick. She was going to marry Rick, not Holder. "All right, all right. I'll go wait by the car. I'm going to start charging by the hour, though."

She almost told him to shut up again, but after what he'd said, there was no way. She ignored him and turned back to Jack and his father. "Just for the day. Overnight. I'm not sure about tomorrow."

"That's almost reasonable."

"I don't have to do this. Don't push me," she warned, turning to give her son further instructions. She couldn't believe she'd agreed to this at all, but she'd better make sure Jack knew the rules.

* * *

><p>"Where to, now?" Holder asked as Linden walked up to the car. She frowned. It didn't look like she'd planned that far ahead, not really. She didn't have the hotel room anymore, did she? And Jack was going to stay here. Where did that leave her? It was too much to expect that she'd want to go back to his place. Holder shouldn't even bother to ask. "You know what, you should eat."<p>

"You don't have to take care of me."

"I figure you have to be less grumpy when you eat," he told her instead. He didn't take care of anyone, didn't she know that by now? Closest he came was with her, though, he had to admit that. "I'd cook for you, but the only think I know how to cook is meth."

She rolled her eyes, taking out his keys as she went to the driver's side of the car. He turned and got in the passenger seat, throwing away his cigarette butt as he did. She pulled out of the lot almost angrily and drove like a mad woman again. Seeing the ex had clearly ticked her off again, even though her mood had been good enough to let her son stay with his father. What the hell. It wasn't like Holder really thought he'd figure out her moods. They were unpredictable. One little thing could set her off.

After a few turns that confused him and streets he didn't really recognize, she stopped the car in the lot of some old diner. He gave the place a look, and she didn't say anything as she got out of the car. He shrugged and followed her. He had said they should eat—she should eat—and if this got her eating, he wasn't going to complain. This place kind of suited her somehow. It was like another side to this strange complicated and damn prickly woman, filling her out a bit more.

"Nice décor, huh?"

"I used to come here when I ditched school," she admitted, not taking the opening he'd left her to tease him about the word 'décor.' He looked over at her, nodding. That figured. He knew she had a bit of a wild streak. She hid it now, but it was still a part of her. Kids in the system, they had these places. He might not have been completely in it, with his sister raising him, but he may as well have been. So she wasn't one of the ones that smoked on the corner. She still ran off sometimes. Everyone did. They just ran in different ways.

"Not bad. The food any good?"

"Terrible, but it's cheap."

"What, you don't think I have lots and lots of money? That I can't take you out in style?"

She rolled her eyes. "This isn't a date, Holder."

"Didn't say it was, now did I, Linden?"

It was quiet after that, nice and awkward, and he shifted around in his seat, trying to get comfortable. The waitress showing up was some kind of mercy. She took the pencil down from her ear, and he had to wonder if any of the hairspray that was holding that rat's nest up had gotten on it. Either that or grease. "What can I get for you kiddies?"

Linden smiled faintly. "Coffee."

"I want a coffee and a big, fat burger. With fries. Make that two. She's eating something whether she likes it or not," Holder told the waitress. Linden made a face. "What? Order for yourself then, you don't like what I pick."

She shook her head, not contradicting the order. Fine. If that was the way she wanted it. Not that he knew what she wanted. She wasn't making a whole lot of sense. He'd expected her to walk out of his apartment this morning, figured he'd never see her again. Instead, she stayed, at least until her son called. She hadn't dragged her son away from the ex, and that had also been a surprise for everyone, even her. He didn't think she really knew what she was doing or what she wanted. Not that he cared. She could do what she wanted.

"You let him stay."

She nodded slowly. "Not sure why."

"Maybe it's 'cause even if he was a douche to you, he might be decent to his boy," Holder suggested, and she rolled her eyes. "It could happen."

"And pigs can fly. You know Jack better than he does."

"True that. Still, what you expect? Kid hasn't seen or heard from him in a while, right? Not hard to lose track of a person if you never call," he reminded her, reaching for the sugar. He'd need it. Diner coffee was always crap. It was some kind of rule. "The kid will talk, if you let him. If you don't... Doesn't matter. The guy can get to know Jack if he tries."

She sighed. "I don't want him to know Jack."

"So you leave your kid in the cold? Even you're not that cruel, Linden."

She shook her head. "I don't—I'd rather he connected to someone I respect. Someone worth it. Someone that's not going to walk away and abandon him first chance he gets."

"Someone like Sonoma?"

The waitress brought their coffees, setting them down and moving away again. Linden took hers and absently stirred a spoon around in it. Holder added a lot of sugar to his, only stopping when she took it away from him. "Jack doesn't really get along with Rick."

"Because Rick isn't his father? The kid like any of your boyfriends?"

Linden frowned at Holder. "We're not discussing this."

"Come on, Linden. Why not talk to me? You figure things out, go to Sonoma, you never have to see this face again. You don't have to pretend or anything with me. I'm not the ex. I'm not Sonoma. I'm not your son or your caseworker. Figure out the bullshit, move past it, and get yourself to the damn plane this time."

She looked over at him. "It's not like you're all that impartial. We slept together. That blurs the lines."

"Fuck the lines, Linden. Who else have you got? You sure as hell won't be telling anyone else this shit, so why does it matter?" he demanded, leaning across the table. "You need to know what it is you really want. You want the happy family with Sonoma? Then figure this out. Is it just Sonoma that bothers your kid or is it all men who might take the spot of his father? You might want to let him figure out for himself that his father's a loser. Then maybe he'll see that these other guys are not that bad. Even Sonoma."

"It's not all men. He likes you."

"I also haven't tried to be his dad."

"So, what, we should tell him that we slept together? Then he'll hate you?"

Holder shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. It's your kid. What has he done with the other boyfriends? Or aren't there any others?"

She flipped him off, and Holder laughed. He reached into his pocket, took out the pack, and lit one up, pulling the ashtray close to him. "If you want to try that, fine. If he still likes me after that, though, you have a problem."

"He'll like you because you mean staying here."

"Maybe I have another job lined up. How the hell are you a homicide cop without thinking up devious crap like this?" Holder asked, shaking his head. He took a drag from the cigarette and let it out. "I could pull a head trip on your kid like you would _not _believe."

"What he won't believe is us. Together."

Holder touched her hand with one of his, the cigarette burning in the other. "Ain't like I was always a junkie, and even when I was high, I could score. I know how relationships work. I know how to fuck 'em up good, too. You're not alone in that. But if you think your son hasn't pictured it, at least once, how it would be if you were with me, then you're just fooling yourself. I used to do it all the time with every man that came into my sister's life. I've been that kid looking for a father. Been screwed over by a lot of 'em, too. That's life. It's shit, but it's life. You found a good one in Sonoma, but your kid doesn't want him. You're wondering why the hell not. You're letting yourself doubt how you feel about him because of your son, right? So get that out of the way."

"What's your plan? Prove to Jack that we make a realistic couple, then convince him you're a lousy father figure, dump me and leave?"

"You get to dump my sorry ass when it's over. Be the strong woman who don't take no shit from no one," he told her. She smiled a little. "See? I made you smile there. It's not _that _unbelievable that this could work, now is it?"

She looked down at the coffee and then at him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you doing this? What's in it for you?"

"Sex."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What? You don't think that it would be convincing to have us continue what happened last night?" Holder grinned as he saw her get red. "Yeah, you do. You even _want _it to happen again. We were interrupted by that phone call, and we could just finish what we started this morning. Sounds good to me. I'm too much of a guy to turn down good sex."

She sat still for a moment, and he decided that this was the deal breaker for her. She wasn't willing to take it that far. "Is that all it is to you, Holder? Sex?"

He shrugged. "I don't get to do much for people. Take, take, take. That's all I did with my sister. What do you want from me, Linden? A ring? A profession of my undying love? Seems to me that crap makes you run in the other direction."

She glared at him. "Holder—"

"It is what it is, Linden. Take it or leave it."

* * *

><p>It wasn't all that flattering—but in some ways it was—that he considered this all about sex. Flattering that he enjoyed what they had enough to want more of it, not so flattering to think that was all he wanted from her. No woman wanted to be just a warm body. Still, it was almost a relief that all he wanted was sex. He wouldn't try and keep her, wouldn't care if she broke this off and tried to fix things with Rick after they settled this thing with Jack. Maybe this was exactly what she needed.<p>

Maybe she as just trying to fool herself. Maybe it was because she wasn't ready to go for Rick, maybe it was because she selfishly didn't want whatever this was between her and Holder to end. It wasn't really fair to him, to Jack, or to Rick.

How the hell had she managed to screw her life up _this _badly? She wanted to blame it on the Larsen case. That would make sense, wouldn't it? Before that case, she knew where things stood. She was moving to Sonoma with her son, and she was going to marry Rick. All of that was simple and set, and it shouldn't be in question now.

Rick had basically told her to be on the flight or not to bother. She'd planned on trying to reason with him. The case was done. The arrest was made. She could prove it was just the case. She'd be there. But she wasn't. She was back in Seattle. Jack was with his father. She was with Holder.

Linden splashed water on her face, looking up into the restroom mirror. Holder was waiting back at the table, waiting for her answer. She could walk away, could say that it would never work. She should. They should stop this, if only because she wasn't entirely sure that she and Rick were actually broken up at this point. Could she fix things? Probably. That meant that she should have ended things before doing anything with Holder, not that she'd really gone to his place intending to sleep with him. Something had been nagging at her, and she thought when she spoke to him, she'd figure out what she needed to. She didn't know what had made her grab him and kiss him, other than those words and that smug grin of his. If not for them, maybe she would have actually talked to him about the case, not ended up in his bed.

Well, fine. Whatever she decided about what she was going to do next, she could still try and figure out what was bothering her about the Larsen case. She walked back out to the table and sat down across from Holder again. He had finished his food and was already smoking another cigarette. "How many of those are you at today?"

"Forty," he answered sarcastically. She looked at him, and he shook his head. "What are you, my mother? What does it matter?"

"I thought I was supposed to be your girlfriend," she reminded him, and he made a face.

"Fine. Be like that. Nagging girlfriend. Great," he muttered. He put it out in the ashtray. "Addict, remember? Good days and bad days. I want a fix so bad I can _taste _it. Feels like I need one. Like if I don't have it now, I'll explode."

"None of that's real, though."

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled. He reached for the cigarettes again. She wondered if there was anything else he could do for it. Gum or something. She swore he had gone through a pack this morning, and the day wasn't even half over. She had been a smoker. She knew what that was like. Still, he was out of control today.

"Maybe you should be working. Take your mind off it. Keep yourself busy."

He nodded. "Yeah, and I would. But Oakes told me not to come in today."

She frowned. "What's going on?"

Holder sighed. "Richmond's dead. Belko shot him. Then Belko got shot. Guess there was a second gunman after all."

She winced. First Stan Larsen had gone after the teacher, now Belko had killed Richmond. Great. Still, that couldn't be all of it. No way. "Why does that mean you're off today?"

"Case you hadn't noticed, Linden, Oakes doesn't want me in his department. He thinks I can't hack it, and maybe he's right. You know they only transferred me out of narco because they can't trust me not to use again. He's looking into 'procedural abnormalities' or some shit like that."

"Why didn't he call me?"

"You're the golden child," Holder told her. "Something went wrong in that case, it's my fault, not yours. Don't sweat it. It'll blow over."

"Yeah, right. You're so relaxed about it that you need a fix."

"There are other things that distract me," he began, and she started to ask him what they were, but then she caught the look in his eye. She knew what that meant, and she was weak enough to give into it, too.


	4. Some Kind of Trick

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 3,127  
><strong>R<strong>**ating**: PG-13  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I wanted to have this up sooner, but real life just would not cooperate with me. So, it's here, finally, and... it is what it is. :P

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Trick<strong>

Messing with the kid's head ended up starting by accident. Holder was half-asleep when he heard some phone ringing and grabbed for it blindly. Linden was out again, and he figured she should stay that way. He was starting to twitch again, but if he hadn't heard the phone, he might have been out for a few hours, enough to make it through one more day without using. He was sick of this day-to-day thing. He shook his head and looked at the phone. Had he already answered it?

"Yo."

"Holder? Why do you have my mom's phone?"

He ran a hand over his face. Well, shit. He hadn't really cared about whose phone it was, just that it needed to stop making noise, and now he had Linden's kid to deal with. Kid sounded suspicious. Maybe he just thought his mom was working again. He seemed to hate that a lot. "She's asleep. I'm not. I answered. What you need, kid?"

"Uh... my mom's permission to do something with Dad so that she doesn't freak out."

"Yeah, you need her for that, just a sec," Holder agreed, turning over to wake Linden up. "Linden. Come on, girl, wakey-wakey. Open those pretty eyes of yours. There we go. Your son on line one, Sarah."

She made a face, and he wasn't sure if it was because he'd woken her up or because she didn't like him using her first name. It _did _sound weird to him, too. She looked like a 'Linden,' was too prickly to be all feminine like 'Sarah.' She reached blindly for the phone. "Jack? What? Well, maybe I _am_ in bed in the middle of the afternoon. You're the son. I don't have to explain myself to you. What did you want? I see. No, that's fine. Yes, I said yes. Do you want me to say no? Then drop it."

She hung up and gave Holder the phone. He put it to the side, looking at her, watching the moods changing on her face. She wasn't an easy one to figure. "Everything okay?"

"Apparently my son thinks that my happiness is directly related to being in bed with you."

"I didn't hear any complaints earlier," Holder told her, and she looked at him, probably about to say something that they both would regret. He leaned over and kissed her again. "Go back to bed, Linden. You don't sleep enough as it is."

"Do you?" she asked, and when he didn't answer right away, she added an unnecessary clarification. "Sleep?"

"Your kid has lousy timing, as usual," he admitted reluctantly. He wanted to sleep, wanted to be blissed out in the aftermath of some afternoon delight, but damn that kid, it was like he knew. Only Holder thought Jack would actually was more okay with his mom sleeping with Holder than she expected. "I was almost out like a little baby, but no, he has to call. Again."

"I told him he had to clear certain things with me before he did them, so I guess that's my fault," she told him. Holder gave her a look, and she put a hand on his neck. "I bet we could get you back to sleep."

He nodded. "Yeah, I bet. You're almost more than I can keep up with."

"You were doing fine earlier."

"I'm out of practice. Can't really remember what sex is like when you're high, right? No one to tell you if it's good or bad or nothing. It's just... something you did last night, you know? Over, done, and forgotten," he explained. "I'd forgotten how good it was sober."

"It can be just as bad sober."

"Not with you," he insisted, moving his hand down along her hip. Must have been all that running she did, kept those legs nice and strong. She could probably break him in half with them, snap him like a freaking twig. He wouldn't have guessed all that she hid under that huge ugly sweater of hers if not for that jogging outfit and now this.

She shook her head. "Bad happens with everyone."

"No magical 'poof' and love makes all the sex good? Huh. Damn. I was looking forward to finding that someday," he said, and she laughed. He managed to keep himself from asking her if she'd really been in love before. She would say she had been. Her kid's father. Sonoma. Not Holder.

"Where do you get these things, anyway?"

He shrugged. "Don't people say 'you'll know when it's the right person?'"

She didn't answer, and he frowned. Damn, she probably had never gotten that talk. No parents, right? No older sister to raise her. Had she ever had that talk with her son? Holder's sister had given him some kind of 'watch where you put that thing' speech when he hit thirteen, and he'd ignored her until the whole scare with Annie in tenth grade. Then he got careful, at least until he started using. Then he couldn't say he'd been careful at all. He'd been _lucky, _but he hadn't been careful.

"You ever talk to your kid about this?"

"Excuse me?"

"You know. Doing the deed. His first time. How he should treat the ladies."

"He's thirteen."

"Meaning you should have already had this conversation with him."

"You think my son is out there having sex?"

"Well, not right now. He's with his father, and that shit would just be nasty," Holder said with a shudder. She glared at him. "All I'm saying is kids are doing it younger and younger. Look at Rosie Larsen. She had a whole double life as hooker that no one knew about, and it got her killed. You need to have a little talk with him."

Linden's jaw got tight, and Holder figured he'd pushed too far, but then she sat up a little. "You want to play father figure? You do it."

"The hell?"

She shrugged. "Isn't that the kind of stuff that's supposed to answer if he's got an issue with someone acting in his father's place? Advice on... sex? That is the father's job, discussing the birds and the bees with him?"

"I'm starting to be sorry I ever suggested this thing," Holder muttered, and she just grinned before kissing him. A little work with her hands and he'd pretty much forgotten what they were even talking about again.

* * *

><p>"I hate your kid."<p>

At the moment, Linden herself was pretty close to hating her son, but then it wasn't even six o'clock in the morning, and she didn't want to be awake. Her body was trying to catch up on all the sleep she'd missed while working the case—maybe even further back than that, and she felt sluggish, her whole body was heavy. She couldn't hardly move. Then again, that might also have something to do with the workout she'd been getting here, in Holder's bed. For all his talk about only thinking about a high and not knowing if the sex was good or not, he was actually surprisingly good in bed, considerate but not so sensitive that she'd wondered if he was gay—that had happened before, and it turned out that the man was. Holder was not the type that had walked out of a romance novel—and she'd deny reading any of those until the day she died—but the stuff that happened between them was better than anything she'd read.

Holder had answered the phone again, then passed it to her, annoyed. She cleared her throat. "Jack?"

"Why are you still with Holder?"

"I decided to marry him instead. What do you want?" she asked, getting a look from Holder. There was dead silence on the other end. Was her son still there? Had she gotten the better of him? She couldn't help smiling a little. "Jack?"

"Would you really marry him?" Jack asked, and Linden winced. She didn't know how to answer that at all. "Mom, you're just kidding, right?"

She took a deep breath. She wasn't going to marry Holder, nice as the past day and the sex had been. She couldn't do that. They couldn't make this thing work just because of sex. "What did you want this time?"

"Uh... you said you weren't sure if I could stay here today. If I could do stuff with Dad today or not," Jack began. She could hear the frown in his voice. "You didn't answer my question."

"I think we should leave him there," Holder said, and she looked over at him. He had heard that? Was Jack really that loud, or had Holder put it on speaker? He leaned over her, pushing the phone away from her ear. "I really, _really _think that we should."

He touched the part of her side that he'd discovered earlier made her giggle. She did, cursing, and then she moaned as the touch went from light to something entirely different. "Holder—phone."

"I was right. You haven't talked about the birds and bees with your kid."

"Shut up, Holder."

"Keep saying that, Linden. I told you; I know what it means," Holder said with a grin, and she grimaced. He moved his hand lower, down her hip, and she pushed it away as she brought the phone back up to her ear.

"You can stay with your dad for now," she managed to say, her voice getting a squeak that she'd never heard before as Holder kept on messing with her. "Stop it. I'm not kidding."

"You are _no _fun," he pouted, pulling back. She checked the phone, but then he started kissing her, ignoring what she'd said. She had to get off the phone. Holder was enjoying this far too much to stop, and Jack was only thirteen. He did _not _need to hear this. If it didn't quit, Linden would have to shoot Holder—straight in the balls—and that would be a shame because he used them well.

"Jack?" she asked, pushing Holder away. He rolled his eyes, turning over to get a cigarette. At least he'd finally quit. Her body was not as happy about that as her mind was. It didn't want this to stop. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself down. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Uh... yeah. I did."

"We'll talk about where we go next at dinner. We'll meet you and your father then," she told him, and he didn't say anything, just hung up without another word. She sighed, setting down the phone. Holder burst out laughing, and she frowned as she turned to him. "What the hell is so funny? You almost got yourself shot when you wouldn't stop."

"Your gun isn't here," he reminded her, going back to where he'd left off. She thought about telling him to stop, but her body was already wound up and could use the release. "You think I'd be crazy enough to pull this kind of a stunt if you had a gun?"

"Maybe if we were still working together and were sleeping together, you might think about trying something on the job."

"Maybe," he agreed. He didn't even try to argue that. She had figured as much. "Come on, Linden. You need to relax more. And if you were going to convince anyone—especially your son—that you and I work then you couldn't shoot me. Or threaten to shoot me. And you know what else?"

She wished she had her gun right then. "What else?"

"You like it when I do this," he told her with another one of his grins, and she almost screamed when he hit that other spot he'd found. Damn him. How had he managed to figure out her body so well? So quickly?

* * *

><p>"You said you weren't working."<p>

"Kid, do I look like I'm working?" Holder asked, leaning back in the booth. He was trying to stay calm, but without a cigarette, he was going to start fidgeting like crazy. He'd bounce off the damn walls. This wasn't going to work. Oh, he'd do his best not to screw this up for Linden because he wanted to prove to her that they could fool her kid—and her ex. Admittedly, Holder would rather mess with the ex than the kid, but the kid was what she'd agreed to—into thinking that they were together.

Damn, if he thought about it too much, it was like he wanted to prove that they _were _together. That they could make this sex and a bit more thing happen, be more than what it was. He couldn't offer her no place in Sonoma, but he didn't think she wanted that. She wanted her job back, that was for damn sure, and she could probably get it.

Then Holder wouldn't have one, but he would survive. He landed on his feet all the time. What was it his lieutenant before Oakes had said? Oh, yeah, Holder was like a cockroach. Damn, he hated those things, but they were hard to kill. He had survived detox; he could handle this.

He hoped, anyway.

"Then why are you here?"

"We have to figure out how to proceed for now. Holder has offered to let us stay with him until we find a place," she said, and Holder reached for his coffee, trying not to react. He had not actually said anything about that—Linden was free to share his bed for as long as she liked—but the kid? Well, he'd have to stay with his mother, so it would figure. Still, it would kind of put a cramp in their style if the kid was around. Holder would rather the kid stay with his father.

"Really? We're going to stay with him? What about Reggie? Is the place big enough for all of us?"

"It ain't stylish, but it's my home, kid," Holder answered. He shrugged a little, reaching across Linden for the sugar.

She grabbed his arm, holding it in place. "You couldn't ask?"

"What, and miss the chance to cop a feel? Hell, no," he said, grinning as he leaned further into her, running his other hand under her sweater. She reached down to stop him, and he grinned at her mistake. He knew of a good way to make her let go. She caught sight of the look in his eyes, and shook her head a little just before he kissed her. He leaned back with a smug smile. "Still not dead, Linden. Guess this means you like me a little."

She rolled her eyes. "You are so—"

"Dead?" Holder finished, and she got into his face this time, leaning into his ear.

"Do you ever want to have sex again?" she hissed, the hand below the table moving from his hand to somewhere far more important. "I'd stop if I were you."

"Remember the point of all of this, girl," he told her as he touched her stomach with the hand under her shirt.

"Uh, should we get the two of you a room?" the ex asked, giving Holder a pointed look. Holder ignored it, continuing to mess with Linden. She was just too damn tempting for her own good, though he'd be damned if he knew why. She was definitely high maintenance, this one, and he was too damn lazy for that shit.

"I thought you were kidding about marrying him," Jack whispered, eyes wide.

"I think someone's playing a joke on you," the ex began, looking between the two of them. _So much for you two not being like that, huh? _Holder could see it in the man's face, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not one damn bit. Thing was, he had a good thing going. He had everything he wanted right now, and he figured that if he played his cards right, he might just get more. Linden didn't have any idea what she'd gotten herself into. He'd told her sex, but he had a few other things he intended to get out of this, too. Let her think this was a trick on the kid. She'd never realize she was being played herself.

He was giving up on trying to fool himself. He wanted Linden, and he might just have what he needed to keep her.

"This is not about any sort of joke," Linden began, and the ex shook his head. He didn't buy it, clearly. The kid wasn't really sure what to think. He was still trying to figure it out.

"If it makes you feel any better, I ain't really the marrying type," Holder said, and Jack turned to him, shaking his head in confusion.

The ex was annoyed. "You can stop any time, Sarah. I didn't think you were—I don't know why you're doing this, but you don't have to keep this act going any longer. I thought you were just partners."

"Partners. Isn't that what marriage is supposed to be, Linden? That's what they said when you were going over them vows with Sonoma, right?"

She seemed amused. "Are you jealous, Holder?"

"Hey, I won, remember? You're with me."

"Can we discuss whatever we came here to discuss?" the ex demanded, clearly frustrated. Holder was enjoying this way too much, and he even thought that Linden was, too. "I do have to go back to Chicago."

"Jack can spend as much time with you as possible before you go," Linden agreed. The other two looked at her like she'd grown a second head or something. Holder just grinned, adding a quick kiss on the cheek for good measure. "I have decided to stay in Seattle, and as I said, we're staying with Holder until I find a new place. I will be getting my job back, though."

"Great," Jack muttered. He looked at Holder. "Can't you talk her out of this?"

"In case you haven't noticed, your mom does what she wants. I happen to like working with her," Holder said, shrugging. "Like a lot of other things about her, but we don't need to discuss that. You've got young ears."

"You're kidding, right? This is some kind of joke, isn't it?"

Holder's answer to that was to give Linden another kiss.


	5. Some Kind of Relationship

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count<strong>: 2,760  
><strong>R<strong>**ating**: PG-13  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I do not even know what to say at this point.

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Relationship<strong>

"What are you thinking?"

Linden looked back at Holder as they walked toward the car. She didn't really know what to think of what had gone on back there, and she doubted that anyone else did, either. It wasn't that they had been awkward or anything like that. The whole thing had been surprisingly easy to pull off. Holder had acted like she would have expected. Jack had been confused, and his father annoyed. "That he didn't buy it."

"What, Jack? Did you see the way that kid's eyes were spinning? I think he bought it," Holder told her, and she shook her head.

"I don't mean Jack. I meant his father," she answered, looking back at the two of them across the parking lot. He was frowning at them, and she knew what he was thinking.

"You know it isn't that he doesn't believe that you and I are together. It's that it pisses him off that we're together. He doesn't want to believe that you can actually be happy with anyone. He should be happy that you're not going back to Sonoma just yet, not making that work. He thinks you can't, right? So he should be pleased. But he's not. And you know why? Because you're with someone that isn't him."

"He's not still hung up on me, if that's what you think," Linden told Holder, shaking her head. She knew that her ex wasn't pining for her, not by any means. He had left and moved on years ago. If he had cared at all, he would have stayed around. "He doesn't want me back."

"I didn't say he did, Linden," Holder said, pushing her up against the car. "What I'm saying is that it's not that he doesn't believe we work. He's afraid we work too well, and no matter what he tells your kid, it doesn't change anything. He's just bothered because I know exactly what you are and what we're doing. I even _like _it. I'm not trying to change you or fooling myself. You?"

She frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Holder kissed her neck, and she closed her eyes involuntarily, moaning a little. "He tried to warn me off from you yesterday. I'm telling you: it pisses him off that I refused to listen to him, that you might have something with me because I know you. I'm not fooled by the bullshit, and I'm not stupid enough to try and change you. I've got what I want."

She could feel him pressing against her, trapping her against the car. She wanted to get out of here, or maybe she just wanted the backseat at this point. She wasn't sure. This was crazy. Stupid. She couldn't afford to spend all of her time screwing around with Holder. She didn't even know what she saw in him. He was nothing like the men she was used to.

"Do you? You really have what you want?"

"What is it you think I want, huh?" Holder asked, and when he looked at her, she honestly had no idea what was going on in his head. She didn't think he was really interested in more from her. He wasn't that type. Holder didn't settle. He didn't want a woman with a lot of baggage and a kid and apparently permanent PMS. He was fine with sleeping with her, sure. The rest of it was something she didn't even want, so why did she care?

"I don't know what you want, Holder."

"Sure you do. I want you," he said, lips covering hers. Yes, she knew that much. Still, she didn't know what else he wanted, still wasn't sure why he'd agreed to any of this.

"What about the job? You might lose it if I go back."

"I land on my feet," he shrugged a little. "I'll make it through whatever comes. I ain't worried."

"You're shaking," she said, grabbing a hold of his hand. He looked down at it, at the trembling in his fingers. "Isn't there something else? Something you take when the cravings get bad?"

"Only cigarettes. And now sex," he added. "Geez, Linden, you smoked. You know what it's like. You replace one addiction with another. I have cigarettes. I use them. I could use alcohol or something else, but what good is that?"

"So... is that what this is to you? You and me, feeding some kind of addiction?"

"That what you think now? That it's just... scratching some damn itch?" he asked, frowning. "I don't know what you're expecting now, girl. Honest. This is about convincing your son, and it's not going to be a short thing, but if you're going to pick fights with me, then it ain't worth crap. You can't get past your issues if you push away even the _fake _boyfriend. You need to get this stuff out of your system."

She studied him for a moment. His words made her angry, but that wasn't all of it. She didn't understand how he saw so much. He didn't know her. Who was he to make any judgments about her? "What is this, really? Are you trying to fix me, Holder?"

"Can't fix anyone. Can't fix myself," he disagreed. "This isn't about fixing anything. Only thing I know how to fix is meth."

"Thought that was the only thing you knew how to cook."

"That, too. You hungry or something? Thought we just ate."

She had the feeling there was something he wasn't telling her, but she didn't know what. She shrugged, willing to let herself be distracted. "So what if we did? You're always eating."

"Suppose that helps with the cravings, too."

* * *

><p>"How long do you think this is going to last?"<p>

Holder looked over at her across the table. Somehow they'd ended up at her diner of choice again. She had driven, so it wasn't much of a surprise. They were bound to end up at one of a few places, and since it wasn't like she had a lot of them left. She kept herself closed off from places as well as people, and this was no different. They weren't even here because anyone was hungry. She was avoiding something—someone, actually.

Funny that the same someone was the one that was sitting across from her. She probably didn't even know that she was trying to avoid him—or she thought she was fooling more than herself by bringing him along. Maybe there was nowhere else to run. At this point, it was hard to say. She was trying to delay going back to his place, back to the bedroom. He wasn't an idiot. He could tell that much.

"What do you mean, Linden?" he asked, We talking about how long we're going to sit here? How long your ex is staying in town? How long you're going to let Jack hang out with him? How long you think it'll take him to figure it out? How long before we know if it worked, if your son can accept a man in your life that's not his father? There's a lot of questions you could be asking."

"How long for this? For us?"

"That a trick question, Linden?" he countered, leaning across the table, almost getting into her face. He couldn't really explain how he felt about it, not without causing her to back off and run, but he knew how to play this. "Ain't no such thing as 'us,' now is there?"

She sighed, not answering right away. Maybe she was thinking this thing could be more, too. He wasn't going to get his hopes up too high just yet. He put his cigarette in the ashtray and took hold of her hand. "How's about I say forever? What you think of that?"

She rolled her eyes, not believing him for a second. He supposed that was for the best. "There is—this, whatever it is. The act that we're putting on for Jack and his father. You said you were my boyfriend. Fake, but still a boyfriend. This is something, whether we like it or not, real or not. This relationship is supposed to be believable, isn't it?"

He frowned. They'd been doing pretty well so far. He thought this was working. Sounded like she didn't, though. "You think it isn't?"

"These things are supposed to be about more than sex, aren't they?"

Holder felt himself smiling a little. "Sure they are. So what is it you want, girl? Turn this into a date, spend a day at the zoo, look at animals and stuff like that? Go for a walk in the park? Watch some chick flick, something like that? No, I know. We should take dance lessons. How 'bout that shit?"

She shook her head, laughing. "The hell do I look like to you?"

"Damn. Another trick question," he began. He licked his lips, considering his words carefully. He had to do this right, or he'd be screwed and this would be over. "You're a fine looking woman, and you're a scary good cop. You're a mother. Good one. Gives a shit, and that's rare. You're smart. Hot. I don't figure you for the holding hands in the park or zoo. Maybe you went there with the kid when he was younger. You like to run, though, don't you? I don't run, so that's out. Let's see... How's about a ferry boat ride? Romantic enough for you?"

"After the Larsen case?"

He thought she was the type to find those things soothing. The water and all. Then again, the Larsen case had really messed things up everywhere, hadn't it? He passed her a cigarette. "Okay, maybe not. You got any ideas? 'Cause I'm still trying for more, but then I'm a guy, and my brain is going back to the sex."

She reached for her coffee. "Sooner or later, I have to talk to Oakes."

"Make it later. You may as well wait until I'm off suspension. Oh, sure, he'd want to give you my job now, but this way we get more uninterrupted time to make this thing between us... solid. True test will be after the kid's dad leaves and you go back to work, right? This way we can figure most of this out before we really have to deal with that stuff."

She nodded, though he could tell that it was a reluctant nod. "Not to make everything about food, but if this was really going to work, wouldn't someone have to cook something every once and a while?"

"We gonna turn ourselves into Martha Stewart now? She ain't my type. You become her, and this whole thing between us is sure as hell over," he warned her. She smiled a little. "Nah. We can try and cook ourselves dinner. I think I have a book or two. There's the internet, too, for recipes. I suppose we'll need to do some shopping, too. Don't think there's much in my fridge or anywhere else."

"You live off takeout, huh?"

"Got 'em all on speed dial," he agreed. "How ambitious we gonna get here? Dinner and desert?"

"I thought we weren't going to turn ourselves into Martha Stewart."

"We're not. But Rachel Ray's kind of cute."

* * *

><p>"Why did we say no prepackaged food? I could kill for some Hamburger Helper right about now," Holder grumbled, rummaging under his sink where he had sworn his pans were. Linden leaned back against his counter, watching him with amusement. She alternated between that and admiring his ass. Not a bad view from back here.<p>

"I don't remember," she told him honestly. "Must have been some insanity that came over us when we were flipping through that book of yours."

"Before or after we fooled around on the counter?"

She shrugged. She didn't remember any more than he did, and she thought one of them should have. The dinner thing had been her idea, sort of. He'd actually specified the meal and desert, but she had suggested the cooking thing in the first place. She had always kind of planned on learning more about cooking, wanted to do right by her son, but she never seemed to have the time to do it. She did not know that she'd actually pick up anything in this experiment of theirs, but she was willing to try.

"You thinking about it, Linden? Screwing around on the counter again?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm thinking that we might have to go shopping for pans now, since you can't seem to find the one we need to finish this meal. If we don't burn it first."

Holder looked out from underneath the sink. He frowned at first, and then a slow grin spread over his face. He rose to his feet, crossing over to her. "Now that sounds like we're planning on getting in trouble again. I don't mind. I like trouble, 'specially our kind. Still, we're supposed to be doing something more than that, right?"

"We do whatever feels right to us. Isn't that what you would say? Or is now the time you start talking about Jesus and morality?"

"Depends," Holder began, getting in her face. "You planning on trying to push me away again? Because I got news for you, Linden."

"News?"

He smiled at her, reaching behind his back and taking out the pan. She shook her head at him, and he kissed her as he passed the pan to her. She took it as he moved around her, muttering something about thinking that he had a bottle of some kind of spice somewhere in the apartment. She sighed, moving the pan over to the stove and pouring the bowl into it. She set the burner and started the sauce cooking. She really hoped they weren't going to mess this up because they didn't have anything to fix if they didn't make this work.

Damn it, it was just a meal. The world would not end if they managed to screw it up.

"Catch," Holder called, and she looked up barely in time to see the spice bottle coming at her. She watched as it hit the floor. She bent to pick it up, and he came around the corner, smacking her on the ass. "Thought you had better reflexes than that, girl."

"More warning would be nice. And never smack me on the ass again," she warned, almost smacking him with the bottle herself. He didn't seem worried at all. She hated the way he never seemed to have a trouble in the world. She knew it wasn't true, but he acted like it sometimes. It pissed her off. She preferred the side of him that wasn't quite as full of himself, the one that showed through when he needed a fix or was trying to impress her on the job or when he helped her with her son. "Holder, you know I have a gun. You've made plenty of cracks about my moods. About PMS. Do you really want to see that?"

"I figure I will if this keeps going," he told her. "Face it. You don't scare me. I know how to touch you, know how to make you weak. And you like it when I do."

"Shut up, Holder."

"You love me, Linden."

"You're full of shit," she told him, pushing him away from her before he could start something else. They needed to focus on the cooking, could not afford to get distracted, not right now. If sex was all they had, it was never going to work.

She stopped at the thought, leaning against the counter again. He was She felt a bit sick to her stomach. Since when did whether or not this thing was about sex matter? She wasn't doing this to have a relationship with Holder, not a real one. This was about settling Jack's issues, settling hers, and getting Rick back.

Wasn't it?


	6. Some Kind of Morning

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 2,886  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I admit... I am not entirely sure what I'm doing...

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Morning<strong>

"I am not cleaning that up."

Holder looked over at Linden and back at the mess all over his kitchen and what other people might turn into the dining room—he mostly ate at a kitchen counter or on his couch, if he ate at home at all. He didn't do that very much. Still, this was his place. She probably thought that he should deal with it because this dump was his. "What, I'm supposed to clean that shit? Forget it."

"Fine. Neither of us is cleaning it tonight," she agreed, and he just looked at her. Huh. He wondered how good she'd been at keeping her house. Probably not that great, since she was probably never home. This was something she did all the time with her son, wasn't it?

"Works for me. Now what? Bed time?" he had to ask. She was still mostly making the rules, more than he was—or at least that was what she needed to think. He'd let her be in control, knew that was what she wanted. "You gonna tuck me in and tell me a bed time story?"

She gave him a sideways glance. "Holder, I'm your fake girlfriend, not your mother. You want a mother, then that is just—"

"Fucked up, right?" he finished, giving her a wide grin. He crossed over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Come on, girl, what do you want to do? We did survive our first meal, and it wasn't half-bad. Should we celebrate?"

"For a meal? Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"Celebrate the little things. One of those things they teach you in rehab. Like not sweating the small stuff. All part of the program," he reminded her. She hadn't gone through all of it, had she? Maybe she was better off. She didn't have that same call, the same need, that desire for a fix. He'd much rather have his addiction to cigarettes than his one to meth, even though he missed the meth sometimes.

A lot of the time.

He wanted some right now. Couldn't that feeling go away for more than a few minutes at a time? This was driving him crazy. He kept feeling like dipping in Linden's money and going off to get himself something. The hell was wrong with him? He didn't want to mess up what he had. He needed liked Linden. It was going to be hard enough to keep her around without getting himself strung out.

"Holder?" Linden asked, interrupting his thoughts. He looked down at her. He thought she saw something he hadn't meant to show her, but she didn't call him on it. "You have popcorn?"

He nodded. "Ain't you stuffed, though?"

"There's always room for popcorn when you're watching a movie."

"Ah, so that's what we're doing," he said, shrugging a little. "Okay, I can deal with that. You're not going to make us watch one of them movies where everyone cries and dies and shit, right?"

She shook her head. "Why would I? I hate that crap. Let's watch some cop movie and make fun of how bad of a job they do."

"Sounds good to me," he agreed, letting her lead him back into the kitchen. He separated from her, going to the cupboard with the popcorn and taking one out. He opened it, getting rid of the plastic, and then passed it over to her. She put it in the microwave and pushed the button.

"I almost figured you for a guy who popped his own," she said, and he shrugged a little.

"You mean with a pan over the stove and all that? I used to, but I got really lazy when I got addicted. Too much damn work."

She shook her head a little, and he did his best to ignore it. If he thought too much about what he was before the meth, he just got depressed. It was time to move past all that, and he hoped to hell that she wouldn't leave him because she was a big part of this. They all said it didn't work, getting sober, not unless he did it for himself. He was. It was just that she... was something he wanted, something that he could only have if he stayed sober. That would help.

"You're being quiet," she said, taking out the bag of popcorn and opening it up.

He reached into the bag for a handful of popcorn and started eating. He threw a piece at her, and she made a face. He smiled back at her before going into the other room. He turned on his tv and started flipping channels until he saw someone with a badge. "How's this, Linden?"

"Looks like crap," she said, coming around the couch to join him. She'd poured the popcorn into a bowl before she came out. "Leave it on."

She sat down next to him, and he pulled her in against him, putting an arm around her waist. She set the bowl on her lap, and they started eating from it as they watched. "Dude, Linden, tell me that I wasn't that bad."

She shook her head. "Actually, you were worse."

"Please. At least I got _some _brains. And looks," he said, throwing more popcorn in her face. She laughed, reaching a hand to the side of his face and pulling him close for a kiss.

"Tell me the woman is nothing like me."

"Well, she's got bigger boobs, for one, and she never seems to wear a bra, either," he told her, and she elbowed him. "Damn, you're abusive, woman. I'm not so sure this is going to work out between us. I ain't so keen on being a victim."

"You keep _asking _for it, Holder."

"You didn't let me finish. I was also going to say that you were smarter than her and never would have fell for that guy's line of shit."

"And you're a lot better than he is," she said, and he figured that was as much of an apology as he was going to get. He teased her with some popcorn, and she almost bit him as she took it. She really was a violent one. "How long do you think it will take them to have sex?"

"Most of the movie. I think this is a porno."

"Figures. The acting is terrible."

"We could do better."

"No way in hell are we filming ourselves having sex."

* * *

><p>Linden woke to a loud pounding on the door. She opened her eyes slowly, stretching a little. She had fallen asleep on top of Holder, and he was not exactly the most comfortable of pillows. His couch would have been little better, but it didn't matter. She couldn't change what had happened, and she would live. She didn't care if she was a little sore. Last night had been nice.<p>

Nice. Damn it, that was a dangerous word. She couldn't afford to get attached to Holder. To this. This was not permanent. It was a temporary situation, something they'd made to help her figure out what was going on with her son. It was not real. None of it was. Except the sex. And that was not enough. Wasn't that what everyone said?

She shook her head as she walked to the door, opening it. She looked down at her son. "Morning, Jack."

"You slept in your clothes?"

"Looks like you did, too," she told him, letting him in. "Holder and I were watching a movie. Where's your father?"

"Waiting for me downstairs. He says we're going for breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Holder asked sleepily, sitting up. She wished he'd been able to sleep longer. She could already see his hands twitching. "We got something to make for breakfast, didn't we? What was it again? Pancakes or eggs?"

"Both."

"One of us should have cleaned up last night," he said, kissing her neck as he passed around her. Jack looked at them, frowning. He was not sure what to make of any of this, and even though she knew that she shouldn't enjoy it, she did. What kind of a mother was she?

A bad one, most people said. The job came first, her son got neglected. Everyone got neglected. She only had time for the job, nothing else. She was no better than the foster parents who had forgotten or abused her over the years, was she?

"Yo, Linden," Holder called from the kitchen. "You gonna help with these or leave them to me? I might make 'em look like something nasty, you know? Something your son shouldn't see."

"You won't," she told him, shoving her thoughts aside and forcing a smile as she went into the kitchen. "You know better than that."

"You're going to have to keep reminding me. Every single time. Now don't that just piss you off?" Holder asked challengingly, and she walked right up to him, getting in his face. She wasn't about to back down, not now, not with Jack watching them.

"I can handle anything you throw at me. I don't think the same can be said about you, though."

"You gonna tell me I ain't seen your moods yet? That if I did, then I would run as fast as I could for those hills? I told you before, and I'll tell you again, I am not afraid of you. I'm not gonna run. I'm not like the other ones you've known," he insisted, taking her by the hand and pulling her close. "Where did we leave the syrup?"

She bit her lip, remembering their distraction before dinner. "I think we used it all."

"You used all the syrup? For what?" Jack asked, and all Linden could do was stand there, red. She struggled to find an explanation that she could give him, but she couldn't think of anything. Holder looked at her and then at Jack.

"Have you ever heard that expression, kid? How's it go again, Linden?" Holder asked, and she looked at him blankly. She had no idea what he was talking about. "'Slow as molasses in January? Ring any bells?"

"Uh... Maybe."

"Well, we were having an experiment, seeing how slow molasses really is," Holder went on, and she tried not to laugh. This was the stupidest excuse that she'd ever heard. The worst part, though, was that Jack almost seemed to be buying it. "It's not January, but we tried anyway."

"Maple syrup is not molasses," she said, and Holder shot her a look.

"Woman, why you got to fuss over the details?" he demanded. She shrugged, and his annoyance vanished as quickly as it came. He grinned at her before stealing a kiss. "You ever eaten those Mickey Mouse shaped pancakes?"

"Who's Mickey Mouse?"

"What is this world coming to, when kids don't know who he is?" Holder frowned, and Linden shrugged. She didn't know. "Tell me that he's just trying to mess with me. How can any kid not know the Disney mascot? That mouse has been famous longer than any of us has been alive."

"I think he is messing with you, if that will make you feel any better."

"Not really."

* * *

><p>Linden's kid had apparently forgotten all about his dad waiting in the car. He hadn't gone back down, hadn't even said why he'd come here. None of his stuff was here. The only thing here was his mother, and Holder had his doubts that the kid cared about that. Still, she had to be the reason, right? Jack had wanted to spend all this time with his father, right? He wasn't down there or anywhere else his father could be. That was where he was supposed to be, wasn't it? Holder wasn't about to remind him, though.<p>

Let the kid stay. The whole "act" part of it didn't do any good if Jack was never around them to see it. Well, it worked for Holder because he knew it was working on Linden. She was doing more and more here, becoming more relaxed, hanging around without the sex thing. Not that the sex wasn't good, but it had to be more than that. He wasn't sure when it had gone beyond that for him, near the beginning or maybe even before, which was just plain crazy, but she was only now starting to see more—or act more. Holder wasn't completely sure.

He looked over at the kid. He should get the damn birds and bees talk out of the way sooner rather than later, but he wasn't looking forward to it. He hadn't ever wanted to be in this position. If he was honest, he would never have expected to have kids, except by accident. He supposed that he could call this an accident, falling for a woman that already had one. It just went to show—you couldn't pick who you fell in love with.

Was this love? Holder had to admit—it was a pretty screwed up version of it if it was.

"Well, that proves it," Linden said, coming up next to him. He looked over at her, and she passed him one of his cigarettes. He frowned at it, but she lifted his hand, letting him see it shake. Had it been that bad all this time, and he hadn't noticed? Damn. "We can make more than one meal."

"We might become actual cooks someday," Holder agreed. He looked at the kid and put the cigarette in his pocket. "Still not Martha Stewart, though. Damn, that gives me chills. You're much better looking, girl."

"Stop calling me girl," she said. "Give me a minute with my son."

He nodded, moving away. She caught his arm, took the cigarette from his pocket and put it back in his hand. He shook his head. "Just go, Holder. This is _your _home. And you don't need to stand there suffering for my sake or for Jack's. You need this."

Damn, she was so freaking beautiful right then. He didn't know how to tell her any of what was going through his mind, so he just grabbed her and kissed her, hard, until he almost forgot what he was doing. It wasn't a dragging into the bedroom sort of kiss; he didn't make any move to undress her, and she didn't try for his clothes, either. It was just a kiss. One hell of a kiss, but still a kiss.

"Do you two need a room?" Jack asked, and Holder broke off, looking over at him. That kid—he had lousy timing, that was for damn sure. Every time they were in the middle of something or trying to sleep, he interrupted.

"Not right now. You and I are going to talk," Linden said, moving away from Holder to go to her son. He let her go, looking down at the cigarette in his hand. He wanted something else, and she knew it, too, but she wasn't judging. She was trying to help. Not that pushy sort of help, not preachy—oh, he had respect for Jesus, always had the cross with him, marked forever for salvation, but he had trouble accepting help from the missionaries same as everyone else. It had been a long journey for him, getting to where he was now, and he felt himself constantly wanting to go back to where he had been, cross or no cross.

He went back into his bedroom, going to the window. He opened it, lighting the cigarette and taking a slow drag off it. Linden was right. He needed to get back to work. He needed something more than this. He liked spending his days with her, could tolerate her kid, but it wasn't enough. He needed to go to a meeting. He normally only went once a week, but he figured it couldn't hurt to do another one. That was what he was supposed to do when things got bad.

What he couldn't figure was why things were so bad. He was doing fine. He hadn't relapsed. He had Linden. He was sober, and she was helping. This was fine.

Yeah, and he was really, really bad at lying to himself. He didn't know why he could fool everyone else but not himself. He only seemed to manage it when he was high, and that was just because he couldn't tell one thing from another then.

He heard the floor creak and looked back. Linden was in the doorway. Holder wasn't sure what this meant. "That was quick."

"Jack went back with his father."

"You still okay with that?"

"I'm fine. You're not."

Holder nodded. That was true. She crossed the room to him and put her arms around him. "What are we going to do with you, Holder?"

"I suppose I have a few ideas..."


	7. Some Kind of Clarity

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 2,566  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So the part at the end of this came to me and felt... perfect, even as I thought it was too soon. I couldn't remember Holder ever mentioning his sister's name on the show (I could be wrong about that), but I got creative instead, lol.

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Clarity<strong>

"I never have this much company," Holder muttered after he heard another loud knock on his door. He put out his cigarette and left Linden in the bedroom, sitting on the bed while he went to the front door. He wasn't expecting anyone, though he thought it might be Linden's kid again. That was the only thing he could think of, since he didn't have friends to speak of. Maybe his old LT. Maybe he was coming by to check on him, like a good sponsor should.

He opened the door and frowned. "Damn, Sis, what you doing here?"

"Nice," she muttered, annoyed. She moved past him, letting herself in. He closed the door behind him with a shrug, turning to face her wrath. He wondered who would be worse, Linden in a mood or his sister. "That's the greeting I get after you blow off my son? You have got to be kidding me, Stevie."

Holder winced. "Lay off the 'Stevie' crap, okay? I got a reputation to worry about."

She shook her head, folding her arms over her chest. He knew that look. Great. This was going to be a fun conversation. Linden would be coming out of the bedroom any time now, and when she did, things were going to get a lot worse than they already were. His sister was pissed, like he'd known that she would be, and he didn't want to try and explain the deal with Linden's kid in front of her or where she might hear. She didn't know about what he'd done. He figured it was better to keep it that way.

"Look, I said I was sorry. I brought him the present. I didn't even think you wanted me there," Holder said defensively. He knew he'd screwed up big time with his sister, with his nephew. Holder wasn't an idiot. He didn't expect his sister to forgive him, hadn't expected her to show up here.

"I gave you a second chance, Stevie," she began. He shook his head when he heard the name. He never could get her to lay off that one. He'd been trying for years, and she was not going to give in. He had liked it, once, when she showed up during his detox, but he would have loved anything then. "You blew it off."

"I didn't blow it off," he protested. He shook his head. "A friend needed me. I stuck by her. It's more than I usually do. I ain't perfect, but I'm working on it, okay?"

She shook her head. "I should just write you off. I don't know why I keep trying, why I put up with this shit. Haven't you done enough to mess up my life? I don't need you screwing with my kids' lives, too. You stole from him. You stole something—I don't know why I bother."

"Holder?" Linden called as she came around the corner. She looked over at his sister. "Oh. I didn't know you had—"

He might have thought she was jealous if it was anyone other than her. No way that woman was jealous for his sake. Pissed, maybe, but not jealous. "Linden, this is my sister. Sis, this is Linden. She's the friend I told you about."

"Friend?"

Holder shrugged. "We met at work. This one was supposed to teach me how to be a good homicide cop. You can guess how that went, yeah? Anyway, she needed a place to crash until she gets her son sorted out, so she's staying with me. Feel sorry for her yet? Then again, she has moods from hell, so maybe I'm the one that should be pitied, right, girl?"

"I told you not to call me that," Linden muttered, annoyed. She held out a hand. "Cigarettes?"

"Thought you quit."

"I did, but you know how it is," she said, and he nodded. Yeah, he knew, all right, he thought as he passed her the pack and his lighter. She grabbed a hold of his shirt and pulled him down to her level. "You gonna be okay?"

"You worried about me? That's sweet, not like you, but sweet," he said with a smile. "No worries. She's not going to do anything to me that I don't deserve. Trust me on that one. I've had this coming for a long time."

Linden nodded. "I just prefer you in one piece."

He grinned at her. He couldn't help it. That was as much as admitting she cared about him. Not that he didn't believe that _shut up, Holder _translated like _as you wish _ but this she'd actually said out loud, without him egging her on in some way. He hadn't figured on going into the whole dating-not-dating thing with his sister around, but he didn't care about that right then. He kissed her.

Linden responded, pulling him close and holding onto him tightly. Damn, had she really been jealous when his sister came in? That was something, huh? Never thought he'd have that, not from her. Then again, he never thought he'd have much of anything with her, so hell, this was all a miracle, wasn't it?

"Behave," he told her as he let her go, and she rolled her eyes as she went around him. "Leave me some from that pack, you think maybe you could do that?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"Brat."

"Shut up, Holder."

* * *

><p>After Linden had gone out for a smoke that would probably cost him the whole pack, Holder went back to finish dealing with the wrath of his sister. It wasn't anything he didn't deserve. He knew that. It just wouldn't be easy to hear.<p>

Still, better to get it over with sooner rather than later. Like ripping off a bandage. Better to do it all at once, get the sting over with and be done. Or quitting cold turkey. Now that had been a real bitch. He hadn't thought he'd live through that one.

It certainly hadn't kept him on the wagon. He'd just been more desperate for a fix.

He forced the memory out of his mind, fighting the twitch in his fingers.

He walked back over to find Sis watching the window. He was so used to calling her Sis that he could barely remember her actual name. It didn't fit her anyway. In his mind, she was always Sis, would always be Sis. Time was, once, he thought of calling her _Mom_, since he didn't have no one else, but he had always known she wasn't, and he had given her the nickname to keep it that way. Sis. Now it was more of her name than her name was. She probably hated that, though. Just like he hated being called Stevie.

"Nice friend."

"Don't hate on her. Your beef is with me, not Linden, and she ain't done nothing wrong. Not to you, anyways," he began. He should have introduced them properly, but he hadn't known what to call Linden other than a friend and a coworker because the fake relationship and sort of friends with benefits thing wasn't something his sister needed to hear about. "There's a guy in Sonoma who would probably have a few things to say about her that's not kind, and the father of her son thinks she's some kind of prize bitch, but you, Sis? You ain't got reason to hate her."

"If you blew my son off—blew your second chance off—for your latest screw, then I have a reason," his sister insisted, and he glared at her.

"Linden and I weren't even together then, and she's not just my latest screw," he shot back angrily, glad that Linden wasn't around to hear this conversation. He did wish she hadn't left with his cigarettes, though. "Leave her out of this. Yell at me. Say whatever it is you came to say. Kick me out of your life again if that's what you feel you have to do. Just leave her out of it."

Sis frowned. "Damn, Stevie, you in love with that woman? You've never talked like that about anyone before. Not even Carrie Newhouse, and you know you almost married her."

"And you hated her," he agreed, going over to the couch and reaching under it for the emergency pack of cigarettes that he kept there. He'd have to replace it later—why hadn't he remembered them when he and Linden were at the store? He shook his head and lit one up. Sis gave him a dirty look, and he shrugged. "My place. I can smoke if I want to."

"Right," Sis muttered. "You gonna admit to it or not? How do you really feel about her?"

"That's classified. Can't blow my cover," he told her, and his sister shook her head. "How was the party? What did I miss? Did he like the present I got him?"

"You should never have taken it from him in the first place," Sis began. Then her hard look softened. "I'm glad you got it back for him. It meant a lot to him."

"I know. It was shitty of me to do it, but—I wasn't thinking. All I thought of was the next fix. Hell, I still think about that most of the time. Next fix, next, next... I haven't done it, though. I swear I'm sober. I've been sober for months, and I won't go back to that. Hell, Linden would kick my ass if I did," he said, amused. He didn't want to think about her going back to Sonoma. He wanted her right here, and as long as she was around, she _would _kick his ass.

"He wanted you there."

"I'm sorry. I'll tell him that, too. Linden's kid skipped school, went missing, and she even thought he was dead at one point. Turns out he was just with his jackass of a dad, but she was going out of her mind, and I had to be there for her. I don't even know why. I just knew I had to see that through. No one ever needed me before, not like she did that day."

Sis frowned again. "You do, don't you? You love her."

"If I say yes, will you forgive me?"

* * *

><p>Linden stayed outside through three cigarettes, trying to tell herself that she <em>had <em>quit. She didn't have any of the gum, and she didn't think that really _wanted _to do this, but Holder had been right. She'd quit for Rick, and he was off in Sonoma. She didn't exactly feel like sticking with quitting at the moment. She knew that was dumb, throwing it all away, but right now, she couldn't bring herself to care. Her mind was full of conflicting emotions, and she didn't know how to deal with them.

She'd been jealous. When she saw the other woman in Holder's front room, Linden had been _jealous. _It shouldn't have mattered because they were not really involved, and she wasn't supposed to want Holder, but she did.

She had been relieved when he said that woman was his sister, but that relief had turned to worry over the way the woman was looking at him, and Linden just couldn't figure out why she _cared. _She shouldn't care.

She would try to convince herself that it was just because Holder had a tendency to look and act rather pathetic, but she didn't think that was really what was going on. She shook her head. She didn't like this.

Finally unable to keep herself outside any longer—mostly to avoid the things she was thinking that she didn't want to be thinking—she went back inside. She stopped in front of the door to the apartment, trying to figure out if she needed to knock or not. It was technically her home at the moment, but that didn't mean she just walked in whenever she pleased. Holder's reaction to her announcement that she and Jack were staying with him was kind of... mixed, something she hadn't really thought about before she told Jack's father that.

She had invited herself to stay. She could just invite herself back inside.

She opened the door and walked in. Holder and his sister seemed on better terms than when she'd left, even smiling at each other. Linden forced a quick smile and started to duck into the back room, but he called out to her instead. "Yo, Linden. Come here for a sec."

She turned and looked at him suspiciously. "What, you want to count how many cigarettes I left in your pack?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Sis here was just leaving. I'm going over there next week."

"Oh."

"You're invited, too," Holder's sister said with an almost friendly smile. Holder grinned like an idiot for a second, and Linden was tempted to smack the the look off his face.

"Oh, crap, I need to get that card from my room. Forgot it wasn't in the bag," he said, rushing off and leaving Linden with his sister and all that awkwardness.

The other woman took a deep breath. "I should tell you not to let my brother take advantage of you. It's what he does. I don't help things. Never have. Can't seem to stay mad at him."

Linden shrugged. That was kind of Holder's charm, now wasn't it? "I think I'm taking advantage of him. He's letting me stay here, rent free, and I have a habit of chewing men up and spitting them out. He even knows that."

The sister was about to say something to that when Holder came back with the card. "There. Tell him I'm sorry it wasn't in there."

"Yeah, sure, Stevie," his sister agreed, moving toward the door. She gave Linden a final look and headed out.

Linden waited a moment and turned to Holder. He sighed and shook his head. "Damn, I love her, but it's never easy when she comes by. My fault, too."

She nodded, feeling his arms wrap around her. She leaned into him, closing her eyes for a moment. It had been a surprisingly long day, and she was tired. "This might sound weird, but can we just... go sleep now? Nothing else, just... sleep?"

"Linden wants to sleep. Now the world is ending," he teased, but he pushed her toward the bedroom. "I'm okay with that. Sleep is good."

She rolled her eyes, taking off her jeans and sweatshirt. She put on the shirt he'd lent her the day before and climbed into bed. He got in next to her—naked as usual—and closed his eyes like he was already asleep. She stared up at the ceiling for a while, trying not to think about how awkward this was, lying in bed without having sex. Maybe this wouldn't work after all.

Holder pulled her close to him, and she felt herself actually _relax _against him. That wasn't supposed to happen. She needed a reason to end this, didn't she? That was what she wanted, wasn't it?

"Fuck it, Linden. Marry me, not Sonoma."


	8. Some Kind of Mistake

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 1,810  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Short, but the chapter needed to be... there, I guess. Everything else would have been too soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Mistake<strong>

Holder really didn't know what possessed him to do it. Maybe it was the day he'd had. Maybe it was all this close quarter time with Linden. They were shacked up like a couple of newlyweds, and that had its advantages and disadvantages. Then there was his sister. She'd shown up, given him yet another second chance, and he was lucky. Maybe he was feeling that a bit too much. Maybe that was it. Maybe that was why he did it. He was lying there, Linden in his arms, ready to doze off, when he looked over at her and said, "Fuck it, Linden, marry me, not Sonoma."

She turned to him, wide awake, even though they had both been almost out. She looked pretty pissed. "What the hell are you saying, Holder?"

What _was _he saying? He didn't know. He really didn't.

No, he did.

A part of him wanted to play it off, to make it a big joke. That was probably the best thing. She'd be okay with that. She would do anything to go back to the way it was, to forget what he had just said, wouldn't she? She didn't want commitment. She'd proved that already. More than once. Holder had known that was what she'd do before he ever started down this road with her. He didn't know why he didn't take it back. He should. If he wanted to keep her, he should take it back. He did want to keep her, so why the hell didn't he just take it back?

"You know what I'm saying. You're not expecting it, and you think I'm kidding, but you know what? This _works. _It fucking works, and you don't even want Sonoma anymore. Maybe all you ever wanted was the idea of him. You didn't want that life, just thought you did."

"What?" she demanded, and he sat up to look at her face. "We are not having this conversation. I am not marrying you. As good as the sex is, as nice as the past few days have been, it would never work. This was just sex for you, remember?"

"No, it isn't," he insisted. "If it was just about sex, we would have been over and done after the first time. If not the first, then the second. We would not be here, now, and we would not be talking like this. Look, even you know that your son gets along better with me than any other man in his life except maybe his father, and I'd argue that he's just trying to like his father because he _should _like is father. Me he didn't have to like, but he does. I know you. I don't want to change you. You're fine the way you are, PMS and all."

She shook her head, getting out of the bed. She went for her clothes, and he cursed as he got up. He took a brief look at his clothes, debating trying to put them on for a very brief moment before he went over to try and stop her. He reached out to touch her arms. She glared down at him, but he didn't care. He had to try something. Anything. He didn't know how he'd talk her out of going, and he didn't know what he would do if she did.

"Don't do this, Linden. Don't run. You need to face something in your life that isn't a murder case. You know how to help the dead, right? Why can't you ever help yourself?"

"Screw you, Holder. You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what you're saying, and you sure as hell don't know me," she snapped, hitting him hard in the gut. He doubled over and nearly collapsed, unable to catch his breath.

She hesitated for a second, then forced herself out the door. He watched her go, hand wrapped around his stomach. That had gone probably as good as it could have. And that sucked. It sucked a lot.

He pulled himself up and sat down on the bed. He could run down, try and stop her. He knew that. He didn't want to let her go, but he didn't really think that he could make her stay, not for a minute. Linden wasn't someone you could force. That was clear. Had always been clear.

He laid back on the bed, cursing loudly. Why the fuck hadn't he kept his mouth shut? Why didn't he just accept what he had? It wasn't bad. It was good. It was working. She would have been won over eventually. Slowly. It might have taken months, but he would have done it. He knew that. He knew that he could. It was a good plan—and he didn't make many good plans.

He sighed. This was stupid. Crazy. And now he'd fucked everything up. He knew it. He knew it before he said it. He grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at the wall. The soft thud didn't have the impact he wanted, so he grabbed the lamp instead. The shade crumpled unevenly, and the glass bulb shattered. There. That was better.

He shook his head. "Fuck. What am I going to do now?"

* * *

><p>Linden groaned as she leaned against the wall. She shouldn't be here. She should have left. She knew that. She should have gone far away from here. She wanted to run, run and just keep running. She could not to back to that apartment, back to Holder.<p>

She hadn't actually made it that far. She didn't have anywhere to go. She still hadn't fixed things with Reggie, had no place of her own, had nothing of her own, really. She was just... here. She saw Holder leave his apartment building, and she thought about talking to him, but she didn't know what to say. She couldn't marry him. That was out of the question.

She saw him looking around, probably for her, and she shook her head, hating this. He lit up a cigarette that she could see in the darkness. She had to fight the urge to go to him. She didn't understand that. Running made sense. She could run. She would do a lot of running.

This... staying... This wasn't her. She should not be here. She should be somewhere else. She was not going to say yes—not that Holder really meant that stupid thing he'd said—and there was no reason for her to stick around.

She felt her own fingers twitching. She wanted a cigarette. She should never have slipped up, should never have had anything earlier, no matter what conversation Holder was having with his sister. She knew better. She _knew. _

She looked back at Holder again. Wait a minute. What was this? Was that Jack?

She moved closer, frowning as she saw Jack throw himself at Holder. Holder ditched the cigarette and held onto him. What was this? She didn't know what was going on. She had to get closer. She tried to keep herself out of sight until she had a better idea what was going on. She stopped when she was close enough to hear.

"Okay, okay, little Linden, you gotta tell me what's going on here," Holder began, standing Jack up straight for a moment and studying him. "What's the dealio? What are you doing here? What's with the tears?"

"It's my dad. He didn't—he thought I couldn't hear him, and he was on the phone. He told them—he has a whole other family, and he never said anything. He didn't say anything to me," Jack said, holding onto Holder again. "He didn't need me. He doesn't even _want _me. I don't know why he's here. He doesn't care. He doesn't want to take me back. He doesn't want to make me a part of his new family. He hates my mom."

"I think you're overreacting a little there," Holder said. "So he has another family. So you got half-siblings out there. That happens. You can know them or not. Your dad shacks up with a woman who is not your mom. Happens a lot."

"It's not that! I heard him say he was almost done with what he was taking care of here. That it wasn't going to cost him anything."

"Kid, those words might not mean exactly what you think they do. Look, he might be close to leaving and going back, that's true. And spending time with you hasn't cost him money, has it?"

"No! He doesn't want to pay for me. No child support. I'm not an idiot, Holder."

"Really? 'Cause it seems to me you're talking like one. Jumping to conclusions and shit," Holder told him. He touched Jack's shoulder, making firm eye contact. She was surprised to see him doing this. She knew that he was no fan of Jack's father. He wanted Jack to learn his father was a jerk, didn't he? Why did would Holder defend him? "You don't know that it was like that. You know there are other reasons for saying that stuff."

"He didn't want me. He left. He never paid my mom anything. I was dumb. Why did I call him? Why did I get him to come? I thought he'd keep us from having to go to Sonoma, but he didn't. He can't. You... You did, didn't you?"

"That wasn't me. That was your mom. Whether she admits it or not, she didn't want to go there," Holder corrected. "Come on, let's take this inside. You can sleep on my couch and in the morning things'll seem different."

"Where's my mom?" Jack asked. Linden almost came out of where she was listening, but she wanted to hear Holder's answer first.

"I pissed her off. She'll come looking for you, though," Holder said. He shrugged. "Don't sweat it. Really. It's between me and her, and we'll sort it out. She needs some time. You need to sleep. All this will look different in the morning."

"Why are you being so nice to me? Is it because of my mom?"

"I like your mom, yeah. Like her a lot. You're separate, though. Not the same. Not a package deal, even if other people try and make it that way. You're connected, no denying that. But you ain't her and she ain't you and you can't judge either of you based on the other."

"So... you like me, too?"

"You and me, kid? We both like Funyuns. It's a bond."

Jack laughed, and Holder pushed him inside the door. Linden watched it close and tried to figure out what the hell she was going to do now.


	9. Some Kind of Understanding

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 2,876  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So... maybe one more part to this...?

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Understanding<strong>

Holder settled Linden's kid on his couch and went to the fridge for a beer. He'd been surprised to see the kid show up, even more surprised to get the running hug that knocked the wind out of him after his mother had done just that, and then the kid started talking up a storm about his dad. Holder had no idea why he'd defended the guy. He didn't like him. He didn't want Linden's kid to like him, either.

He looked over at Jack on the couch. At least Linden would come back for the boy. The one thing that she couldn't leave behind. That's what the kid was, supposedly, and Holder didn't doubt that she would come. She was a mother, even if the job wanted to screw that up.

"Holder?"

"What, kid?"

"Are you always going to call me kid?"

"Got a reason that I shouldn't?" Holder countered, drinking from the beer. What he really wanted he couldn't have, so he was back to the booze and cigarettes and trying to make them work again. If not for the kid, he probably would have done what he'd been thinking about and gone to a NA meeting. Things were bad. Real bad, especially now that he'd screwed up with Linden.

"You're going to marry my mom, right?" Jack asked, sitting up. "That means... you'd call me by another name, right?"

"I don't know. I like calling you kid, and your mom ain't gonna marry me."

"Do you think she would if I told her I liked you and wanted her to?" Jack asked, and then he shook his head. "No, it wouldn't make a difference, would it? I told her I didn't like Rick, but she was going to marry him anyway. I don't know why. I think I only had fun with him once, when we stuffed our faces full of cake."

"Hey, I can do better than that. I have my sister's cookie recipe, and there is nothing in this universe better than her cookies. Forget any store bought ones or even bakery ones. I am telling you: that woman figured out the secret to the _best _cookies ever," Holder told him. He shrugged. "They're not as good when I make 'em, but they're close."

"Can we make them now?"

"Depends. Might not have everything we need," Holder answered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made the cookies. He didn't think he had all of the stuff he needed around here, even after his trip to the store with Linden. "Maybe it's best if we just get some sleep and check on things in the morning. That way the stores'll be open if we need something."

Jack sighed. "I don't know that I can sleep."

"What, you think you need a bed time story?"

"What am I, five?"

"I don't know," Holder shrugged. "I think you act that way sometimes. We all do. Sometimes that little kid in us gets the better of us. It happens. You should have been willing to talk to your dad instead of running. Maybe all of that was none of what you thought it was."

"And if it is?"

"Then you deal with it. That's life, you know. It's shit, but it's life," Holder repeated what he'd said to the kid's mom the other day with a slight smile. He took a slow sip of his beer. "I'm not going to say I got all the answers. I don't. I'm not going to say I'm much good at this crap, either. I'm just older and have gone through enough to know that it doesn't get easier. I also did the running thing. Spent a while addicted to drugs. Nothing bothered me when I was high, and I sure as hell loved that. Thing is, though, the moment I came down, it was all still there. It was even worse because I avoided it. So what if you don't want to hear what the truth is about your dad? It's still gonna be true tomorrow. You have to talk to him. Just like your mom can't run from the truth about Sonoma forever."

"She doesn't really love him," Jack insisted. "I know she thought she did, but he was just the first person to ask after my dad took off. She thought she _had _to do it. Maybe even for me, but I never really liked Rick."

"I know that. She's the one that doesn't."

Jack sighed. "Are you sure you can't marry her? I mean, you barely know her, but you know her better than most."

"That's the funny thing," Holder said, finishing off his beer. "Most people think that working with her, you only see the side of her that's at work. They don't get that it _is _Linden at work. Her guard is actually down the most when she's there. She shows a hell of a lot more than she thinks. I got to work pretty closely with her. I figured a few things out—and quickly, too. She's complicated, your mother. And as much as you think she doesn't care what you do or maybe even about you, it's all too clear that she does."

"Then why isn't she here?"

"I chased her off. Said something I shouldn't have. Ain't got nothing to do with you, kid, so don't worry about it."

"Will she come back?"

"Yeah, kid. She'll come back. She'll come back for you."

* * *

><p>"This is unexpected."<p>

"You have every right to throw me off your boat, and I wouldn't blame you," Linden began, standing up. She'd been sitting in the back of the boat for a while, trying to think. She had finally decided to go to Reggie's, knowing that she couldn't stand outside Holder's apartment forever. The diner would have been open all night, but he knew about that place, might look for her there, and she didn't want to be found. She wasn't ready for that.

"I guess I'll reserve judgment on that until I know why you're here."

"I needed to come by and apologize," Linden began uncomfortably. She looked down and took a deep breath. "Though I'd be lying if I said that was the only reason."

"Knew better than to think it was, but I'm willing to hear the apology," Reggie said, setting down her bag of groceries and sitting next to it. "Where's Jack?"

"With Holder."

"Holder?"

"I told you about him. The narco transfer they stuck me with on the Larsen case. The guy I was supposed to train to do homicide," Linden reminded her, though she doubted the older woman had forgotten. Reggie didn't forget anything. "He was with his father, though."

"His father?" Reggie demanded almost angrily. "What the hell was he doing with his father? That man hasn't so much as picked up a phone in years, and you're letting Jack spend time with him?"

"I was. I must have been crazy—I'd blame the whole thing on Holder, really. He said it would be best if I let Jack find out for himself that his father was a loser. I guess he has now, but the whole thing is such a mess... Reggie, I screwed up. I fucked everything up. I'm not just talking about Jack and being a bad mother. It's Rick and Sonoma and not getting on the damn plane. Jack and his father. Me and Holder..."

Reggie looked at her. "What about you and Holder?"

"You're not going to ask about the plane?"

"I've got eyes. You're here. That's answer enough. Besides, as much as I tried to like Rick, as much as he seemed like a decent man, I never believed it would work between the two of you. I'm not your mother, so I kept my peace on that one. It isn't for me to tell you who to marry or who not to marry. That's your choice."

"And the wrong one, like always."

Reggie sighed. "Looking at the type of man Rick is, there's no denying he was one of the better ones. You thought you were making a good choice for you and for Jack. Never mind that Jack hated him. He was bound to hate the one you finally decided you liked."

"That's—it's—Jack seems to have no problem with Holder."

"Holder's just a guy you work with. Isn't he?"

Linden shook her head. "Not exactly. Not anymore. I don't—I shouldn't have let him talk me into it, but I guess I just wanted to pretend for myself for a while... I don't know what I was thinking, Reggie. Holder is nothing like Rick. He's not stable, and he's not going to be a good provider. He has to struggle with an addiction to crystal meth and could lose his job at any time. Rick is the obvious choice."

"Only you're not with Rick. You're still here. And it sounds like there's more going on with you and Holder than you're ready to face."

Linden sighed. "He... sort of asked me to marry him."

"Did he now? Well, that is a surprise."

"It's not like it was some great romantic moment. We were lying there, and he just blurted out, 'fuck it, marry me and not Sonoma.' I thought he was joking."

"And he's not."

Linden paced around the deck of the boat a little. "I don't think so. Or at least I think that he doesn't think so. It's such a complicated mess, and I made it. I'm not expecting you to fix it. I don't know that it can be fixed. I don't know. I don't know anything right now. I should be with Jack. His father really upset him today, and I'm not there for him. Holder is. Why is he there, and I'm not?"

Reggie studied her for a long moment. "Because marriage to Holder scares the hell out of you. I don't even think that's the usual fear of commitment panic talking, either. Rick offered you a fresh start. A completely new life. It's not what you really needed. You need this place. You need that past. You need to stop running. Holder just asked you to do that. That's what scares you."

"I don't even know him."

"Sounds to me like he might have a good sense of you, though."

"No. He can't. It's only been a few days," Linden protested, but the words felt hollow to her. She was afraid that Holder was right, that he knew her all _too _well.

* * *

><p>"Cookies."<p>

Holder opened his eyes and frowned. Where the hell was he? Oh, damn, he was in that chair in his front room. That one always gave him bad pain in the neck when he fell asleep there, and he'd been trying to avoid doing that since he got sober. "What cookies?"

"We're making them, right? It's morning. You can figure out what you need now and we'll make cookies. You said so."

"Don't you think you should talk to your dad first?" Holder asked, dragging himself out of the chair and rubbing his neck. Damn, that hurt already. He was going to have to take something for it, if he had anything around. "Look, you might not want to hear it, but he's the only one who can tell you if you were right about what you heard. You need to know. Tell him never to come around again if he feels that way. But you gotta know if you're going to tell him off, otherwise you're just some kind of punk who don't know crap and made an ass out of himself."

Jack looked at him. "Why do you care so much about me talking to my dad?"

"You think I want to be stuck with you while you're here and feeling sorry for yourself? Hell, no, kid. Call your father. Find out if he's an asshole, and then we can deal with whatever you feel. With cookies. You call. I'll look for what I need."

Jack sighed, but he went over to the window, taking out his phone. Holder watched him for a moment, not sure what to do about the kid if the things he thought were true were true. Make him cookies, sure, but after that? Hell if Holder knew. Linden could come back and take her kid off his hands any time now. That would be fine with him.

He went into the kitchen and started digging through his cupboards, looking for his ingredients. Before he got addicted, he would keep all of the stuff around, but he hadn't even thought about the recipe until his sister came by yesterday. Funny how being sober hadn't mattered, how the cookies hadn't mattered until the kid was here. He had most of the ingredients out on the counter when Jack came back into the kitchen.

"He said he'd send me cards and stuff and we could keep in touch, but he's going back to Chicago," the kid began dully. "That there's no place for me there just yet. And when I asked about child support, he said that was something for him to discuss with my mom. He doesn't actually care."

"Maybe he has a lousy way of showing it. Maybe he needs time to make a place for you in his house there," Holder offered, and the kid shook his head.

"Why are you defending him? You didn't like him. I could tell back at the hotel."

"No, I don't, kid, but I figure if your father was a complete jerk, he never would have come here in the first place."

"I'm starting to think he just did it to mess with my mom."

"Well, then, you just let him mess with your mom. Don't be the tool he uses. He can't man up, then fuck him. Let's make cookies," Holder said, lifting up the bag of chocolate chips. Jack frowned for a moment and then gave in, coming over to the other side of the counter. "A cup of this, a cup of that, and as much of this as we want."

"You're sure these can be eaten?"

"It all starts with the basic chocolate chip thing, right? Then you add some other flavors, and it's one hell of a cookie. Don't believe me? Fine. You'll just have to see when you taste them."

Jack was quiet, and Holder gave him the spoon to start stirring the mixture of flour, oil, and eggs. He worked at it for a few minutes while Holder set out the right amount of the other things they would need. The kid stopped and looked up at him. "Holder, do you think... I mean... Well, my mom's coming back, right? She'll be here, and none of it will matter, right?"

"It matters 'cause it hurts, right?"

"Why did my dad have to be a jerk?"

"He didn't have to be. He chose to be, maybe," Holder corrected. He held out the bag of chocolate chips to the boy. "Put in as much of those as you want. He ever have that talk with you? You know, _the _talk?"

"What, like girl and boy stuff? The sex talk? Well... no. Mom hasn't, either, but I already know about—why are you asking me that?"

Holder shrugged. He wasn't telling the kid that was part of the deal with Linden. "If he had, it could have meant that he cared more than you thought. If he didn't, not sure it means anything. Only thing I can say about that kid is a bit of advice my sister gave me—be careful where you put that thing."

"What, like you and my mom aren't—"

"Your mom and me, we're adults now. You're still growing up. Hell, I'm still growing up. The point is to think about it. It's not as simple as point A and point B, okay? It takes a lot more than the right parts."

"Uh..."

"Relax, kid," Holder said, reaching over to mess up the kid's hair. He looked up and frowned. Damn, how long had Linden been standing there? And why the hell hadn't he heard her come in? He forced a smile. "Yo, Linden, long time no see. You're just in time for cookies. Well, a few minutes early."

"I'll wait," she said, and Holder let out a breath, nodding. She'd stay for now. Good. Maybe he could talk to her, change her mind. Probably not, though. He reached for a cookie sheet.

"You could help, actually."

"That depends."

Holder frowned. Was she going to make him promise not to ask again or something? Or make a run for it. "On what?"

"You got a ring?"


	10. Some Kind of Commitment

**Some Kind of Fix**  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 1,860  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Linden/Holder  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> up to 1x13, just to be safe.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything. I just break things.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> He wants a fix. She's got somewhere to be. Neither of them expected this.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> So here it finally is, the last part of this story. I think this is a good place to end it. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Some Kind of Commitment <strong>

_Got a ring? _

Linden had a feeling that what she'd done to Holder—asking that—bordered on torture. It was cruel, leaving him stuck with that comment and no real way to discuss it—not in front of Jack, anyway. He might have wanted to talk, kind of looked like it, but he didn't actually say anything in front of Jack.

Unless you counted when he dug in his drawer, found a couple of paper clips and twisted them together, all the while giving Jack instructions on how to put the cookies together. "Bigger than that, kid. Rounder. Yeah, about like that. Looks good. Make 'em all about that big. Wait, give me that M&M there."

"That was two," Jack protested. "Wait, you're not supposed to eat the dough, right, Mom?"

"If it has uncooked eggs, then, no."

"Everyone eats cookie dough, Linden," Holder objected, coming around the counter and putting the metal he'd twisted into a small circle into her hand. He looked like he was about to kiss her or hug her, but he stopped himself and moved back to the oven instead.

She was a bit disappointed, but she had to smile as she looked down at the "ring" in her hand. It wasn't much of one, especially not compared to the one that Rick had given her, but she liked it better for some reason. Rick had gone through the whole thing—he'd carefully planned the moment that he was going to ask her, taken her out for the perfect dinner that she barely remembered, and then he'd asked her just at what he felt was the right time. He'd been careful.

Holder had been anything _but _careful. Why was that so appealing? Maybe it was because he never backed down when she got angry, because he just shrugged and blew off her latest blow up instead of trying to pacify her or change her. He had always had this attitude of _fine, whatever. _Everything seemed to bounce off of him like it was nothing.

"Cookie dough," Holder said, shoving a spoon at her. She backed away a little. "Come on. You know you want to eat it. Yum, yum, yum..."

"Those cookies are going to make both of you overdose on sugar, you do know that, right?"

"I can only think of one better way to go," Holder told her, and the look on his face explained clearly what the other one was. She didn't think that Jack had missed it, either. He looked uncomfortable, but then Holder had actually tried to talk to him about the birds and the bees. That would make anyone uncomfortable.

"Come on, Mom, you gotta try it. I made it. Well, Holder talked me through it, but I did the measuring and the pouring and the stirring and the putting them on the tray. I made them," Jack said, sounding proud of himself. She was glad that he was, but him enjoying cooking so much, now that was a shock.

"Okay, I'll try it," Linden agreed, and immediately Holder stuck the spoon in her mouth. She had to stomp down her gag reflex, trying not to throw up. It wasn't that the dough tasted bad, but the spoon had gone a bit too far. She nodded. "Yeah, sugar overload."

"In the most awesome way possible," Jack agreed, not caring for a second what she'd really thought of the cookies. "Holder was right. These are the best cookies ever."

"Wait until my sister makes 'em. I'm hoping she'll have them next week when I go see her. You can come with me if you like. Maybe the kids will like you. Maybe not. Who knows?"

"Next week? So you figure we'll be around for that?"

"Kid, your mom already told you that she's staying here. You're staying here. Your dad pulling a bit of crap on you—that doesn't change it," Holder reminded him. He went over to the other counter and started making some coffee. "You'll be around next week. You can come or not. Up to you."

"Your sister won't mind?" Linden asked, getting herself a coffee cup. "Some people don't like extra guests. Maybe you should have asked her first before inviting Jack."

Holder looked at her, opening his mouth to say something, but Jack jumped in first. "What about you, Mom? Aren't you going to say there's no way I can go next week? You're mad at Holder now, right? He didn't say why, but the two of you are acting all weird and kind of distant and not like you were."

"Everyone has fights. It's what happens after the fight that says if things are gonna keep working, you know," Holder said. Linden watched him, aware of what had to be coming next. "It isn't easy or perfect, that whole love dance thing, it just... is."

"It is what it is, right, Holder?" Linden asked, and he nodded, smiling a little as he turned back to the oven, opening up the door to check on his cookies. She watched. She had a bad habit of watching him from the back.

"Exactly, Linden. So you live with it or you don't. Fighting it and running aren't real options."

"And drugs are?"

Holder shook his head. "No. No way in hell. I'd be the first to say it doesn't. Let that be a lesson to you, kid. Just say no."

Jack snorted. Linden sighed.

* * *

><p>It took way too damn long to get Linden's kid out of the way to have an actual conversation in private. Holder wasn't really sure how he made it through the cookies and the rest of it. He felt like he'd been holding his breath the whole damn time—that wasn't even possible—but that weight on his chest was getting tighter and tighter. He kept waiting for the whole thing to fall apart. Linden hadn't said a word about it, about the ring or anything. It wasn't like she'd left or nothing, but she hadn't <em>said <em>anything, either.

He hadn't expected her to ask for a ring. He thought that she'd come back, take her kid, and go. It hadn't been like that, but he didn't have a ring. He hadn't planned it out—proposing to her had to be one of the dumbest ideas that he had ever had—and it wasn't like he had anything lying around. His little trick with the paper clips wasn't all that impressive, and she was going to say no now that the kid wasn't around to hear them.

That much sugar should have kept the kid bouncing off the walls for hours, but instead it must have put him into a coma. He would be fine, out for a while, but fine. That could be a good thing. It might not be.

Holder was a bit worried about this conversation. He lit up a cigarette and looked over at Linden. "You came back."

She nodded. "Jack was here."

"Figured you'd be back for him. And your stuff, what little you've got," Holder agreed. He took a drag on his cigarette and looked at her. "You stayed longer than I thought."

She shrugged. "Thought you said running isn't an option."

"Doesn't mean you wouldn't try it, Linden. I know it, and you do, too," he told her, coming close to her. "What did you mean by the ring bit?"

She didn't answer right away. He shook his head. This wasn't something he wanted to draw out any longer than he had to. He just wanted a damn answer. "Don't jerk my chain, Linden. You want a ring or not? You gonna answer me or not? I ain't in the mood to be messed with. I didn't ask you about something anyone takes lightly. It might have been the wrong question to ask you, but that doesn't mean that you can't answer it."

She walked over to him, and he handed her the cigarette. "Come on, now that you've got that, you can spit it out, can't you?"

"You think I need one of these for courage?" she demanded. He shrugged. She was the one that wasn't talking, not him. She shook her head. "Look, Holder, I'm not going to marry you. Not now."

"And that was so hard to say? You could have done it in one word. That's all it would have took. One damn word. It so hard to say no, Linden? I think you've had plenty of practice over the years. If not with men, than with your kid."

"Screw you, Holder," Linden snapped. "I didn't say—I just said I wouldn't marry you now. It's too damn soon. We barely know each other, even if you know me better than most. Nothing changes time but time, right? That sounds like something you would say."

"Maybe. But you have one twisted sense of humor, asking me about a ring,"he muttered, shaking his head. A good part of him was tempted to strangle her right now. He didn't like when people messed with him. He actually cared about this woman—damned if he knew why—and then she screwed around with his head. He should kick her out now, save some of himself before she managed to destroy what little he had left.

"I said not now. I didn't say not ever," she said, and he frowned. She tugged on his sweater. "You offered me a lot when I didn't have anything. I messed up things with Rick, and I did it on purpose. You knew it even when I was trying to lie to myself. I am never going to be good at this, but with you, it almost works. It's going to take a lot more time before we know for sure that it does. Still... I am willing to give it that time."

He stared at her. "Okay, now you're really messing with my head."

"I mean it. I want to stay. I want to try. I want to make this work."

He wanted to believe that, wanted it to be true. He wasn't quite ready to take her at her word, though. "Tomorrow's back to work. Things are going to change. And your kid can't sleep on the couch forever."

"We can find a place where he has his own room as soon as I have a job again."

"We can?"

"Unless you no longer want to share?" she countered, pulling him close to her. Oh, hell, he didn't care anymore. He wanted her, and he would take her anyway he could get her. He knew it wasn't going to be a short-term thing, and he could stick to the plan. She'd admitted that it worked. "Holder—"

"You sure about this?"

"Yeah."

"Really, really sure?" he pressed. "Because if you're not sure, then we can just—"

"Shut up, Holder."

"Love you, too, Linden."


End file.
